Viva La Vida
by TheGreenBook
Summary: This a Circle Era story set 18 years before City of Bones, focusing on Stephen Herondale's point of view. His relationships with both Amatis and Celine will be explored, as well as his involvement with Valentine's Circle. Please enjoy and review!
1. Chapter 1: The Circle

**Author's Note: Welcome to my newest story, Viva La Vida!** **A very long time ago, I read City of Glass and LOVED Amatis Herondale's story about her relationship with Stephen. It was just so tragic, it drew me like a moth to light. I started thinking more about the people in The Circle, and… this is the result. This story will focus on Stephen Herondale and his relationships with both Amatis and Celine, as well as explain how Jace came to be.****As many of you know, I love theories and reading too far into most books. I hope you enjoy this story, as I am having fun writing it. Some of the chapters may have song lyrics. This may not always be the case, however, I will give credit to the musicians who make the music.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters OR any of the songs used within the chapters. This is a work of fiction based on the characters in Cassandra Clare's Mortal Instruments series. I own none of these characters. No money is being made on this work. This is a work of fiction and should be treated as such. This story will contain M-rated situations, as well as massive amounts of artistic license. AWFUL THINGS HAPPEN IN THIS STORY. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. I will accept critiques but not flames. Reviews are most definitely encouraged and will motivate me to update faster. Please enjoy! **

**I'm sorry this chapter is so long. That won't be the case. This is long merely because it's the first chapter. **

**Song Credit: Viva La Vida, by Coldplay.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: The Circle<strong>

_I used to rule the world__  
><em>_Seas would rise when I gave the word__  
><em>_Now in the morning I sleep alone__  
><em>_Sweep the streets I used to own_

_I used to roll the dice__  
><em>_Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes__  
><em>_Listen as the crowd would sing__  
><em>_"Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!"_

_One minute I held the key__  
><em>_Next the walls were closed on me__  
><em>_And I discovered that my castles stand__  
><em>_Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand_

_I hear Jerusalem bells a-ringing__  
><em>_Roman Cavalry choirs are singing__  
><em>_Be my mirror, my sword and shield__  
><em>_My missionaries in a foreign field_

_For some reason I can't explain__  
><em>_I know Saint Peter won't call my name__  
><em>_Never an honest word__  
><em>_But that was when I ruled the world__  
><em>

Stephen Herondale was four months past 18 years old the day he sat high atop of a hill and surveyed the lush, late summer colors of the surrounding Idris country side. He was running late for his destiny. Lucian Graymark, the man he was to meet, was running late, twenty minutes to be exact. Stephen couldn't imagine all that could happen in twenty minutes. Fate was a fickle bitch. One person could tip the scales against another's favor, and there would be hell to pay.

Three months before this moment, and two weeks before graduating from Shadowhunter Academy, Stephen saw a flyer at school advertising meetings for the "Circle of Raziel." The Circle, as it was known, was a group of people led by a man named Valentine Morgenstern. Valentine graduated from the Academy four years before Stephen and spent those four years gathering followers.

The flyer asked Stephen if he might like to realize his full potential as a Shadowhunter. If so, Stephen was to show up to a meeting and be willing to do whatever it took to make a difference for Shadowhunters all over the world. Stephen wanted to realize his full potential as a Shadowhunter. He tore down the flyer and made plans to attend the meeting.

Lucian, also known as Luke, was already a member of the Circle, and was parabatai to Valentine. He encouraged Stephen to join The Circle, and was half the reason why Stephan was sitting on the back of a black horse, baking in the late afternoon sun. Luke was always running late. It wasn't a bad thing; it kept him from running into stupid situations, which was what Stephen was famous for. Luke was calm, level headed, and thoughtful. Stephen was none of those things.

Finally, hoof beats approached from the east and a white horse burst form a grove of trees, a dark haired man clinging to his back. Nicias, the horse Stephen was riding, danced beneath him. She was a young mare who had obediently trotted for nearly an hour from Stephen's home, back in Idris's capital city of Alicante, to this hill. She wanted to run. Stephen knew there would be time for that. Soon, he would want to run as well.

Luke pulled up beside Stephen and apologized for being late. Stephen shrugged.

"Where's Amatis?" Luke asked, "I thought she was coming with us." Amatis was Stephen's wife of two months, as well as Luke's younger and only sister. She planned on attending the meeting; however, certain complications had arisen.

"She wasn't feeling well," Stephen said. He nudged his horse with his heels and they set off down the hill.

"Really?" Luke asked. "She wasn't feeling well last week either. Or the week before that. Or, the week before that, when you got back from your honeymoon." Stephen blushed and urged his horse into a trot. His fair complexion showed most emotions he wanted to keep hidden. "If it's just a stomach bug, there are runes to take care of it."

"We've tried them," Stephen said.

"Have you been to see the Silent Brothers?" Luke asked.

"Last week," Stephen said. "They said it was something to do with the food we ate in Italy. I'm sure she'll be fine in a day or so. It's really nothing." The reins in Stephen's hands got slick from sweat.

"You know there are only certain instances where runes don't work," Luke said. "If an illness is of demonic origin, or, if there is more than one being affected at once… which only happens… when…wait a second."

Stephen didn't bother to wait for the realization to dawn across Luke's face. He snapped the reins against his horse's neck, instantly waking Nicias from her lazy trot. She leapt into a gallop, her strides lengthening as Stephen leaned over her neck. Stephen had spent the last two weeks trying to summon the nerve to tell Luke he had gotten his sister pregnant… before the wedding.

Of course, Stephen didn't mean to get Amatis pregnant, but when it came down to it, she was just as guilty as he. Simply put, they couldn't help themselves.

Four weeks before they were to marry, Stephen and Amatis packed a picnic and departed from the Herondale Manor stables. Stephen wanted to get away from his three obnoxious older sisters and his mother's relentless wedding plans. Amatis just wanted to get away. They rode to their favorite spot, a secluded lake surrounded by trees covered in Spanish moss, ate lunch, and drank from a bottle of sweet wine Stephen pilfered from the pantry.

Stephen had courted girls before he met Amatis. He was raised in the London Institute, which his parents used to run. There were parties and balls and plenty of girls to dance with and even kiss behind closed doors. He was known as a tease back in his younger days, infamous for getting girls close enough to want him, only to turn cold when they were finally good and ready. As a result, he was never truly intimate with anyone, male or female, in all of his 18 years.

Amatis was a virgin as well, though she was expected to be. Stephen was attracted to that quality in her, not because he would be the first man she would ever be with, but that she had never been touched by heartbreak. She made him never want to break her heart.

Even as Stephen thundered down the hill, fingers twisted in his horse's mane as Luke cursed a blue streak somewhere behind him, Stephen could remember that scared afternoon like it was yesterday.

"Do you think mundanes at least have an idea about us?" Amatis had asked. She was lying with her head on Stephen's stomach as they lay beneath a tree. Stephen had one hand holding the half gone bottle of wine stationary as his other hand tangled itself into Amatis's long brown hair. Amatis was fascinated with mundanes. She cared about people who didn't even know her.

"I would hope," Stephen said. "So what does your dress look like?"

"I can't tell you that!" Amatis exclaimed. She turned so she had her head on Stephen's bicep. "You'll just have to wait."

"I can't wait much longer," Stephen moaned. Amatis smiled and tossed a leg over Stephen's waist. She kissed him gently on the lips. Stephen placed his hands on Amatis's hips, digging his fingers into the soft, well worn flannel of her shirt. They kissed again as Stephen slipped his fingers up her shirt, and felt warm skin on her stomach. He moved his hands up, over her ribs, and then…

"Wait," Amatis said. She grabbed Stephen's hand before it went too far. "Stephen."

"I can't wait," Stephen said. It might have been the alcohol, or the setting, or even the fact that he really couldn't wait, but Stephen found himself wondering what sorts of things their wedding night might contain.

"Stop thinking naughty thoughts, Herondale," Amatis said. She climbed off of him and ran her fingers through her hair, then pulled it up into a messy bun. Her face was lightly dotted with freckles. She was so normal compared to every other girl Stephen ever met. She was the girl next door no one ever took a second look at.

"You know I can't help myself," Stephen said. He kissed her lips. "If you want a boy who thinks nice thoughts, perhaps you should go looking for a Lightwood. Salt of the earth, that whole lot."

Amatis giggled. Stephen pushed her onto her back and crawled between her legs, He pinned her down and sucked on her neck, lightly nibbling the skin below her ear. Amatis sighed. The sound sent shivers up Stephen's spine.

He never lay on top of her before. Stephen could feel more of her this way. There was the warmth of her thighs against his and the softness of her breasts now suddenly within reach. Stephen moved his hips against hers as they kissed. Amatis put a hand on the back of his neck and pulled their faces close together. Stephen rubbed against her again. He ached to feel more of her skin against his body.

Amatis pulled Stephen's shirt off and tossed it aside. She ran her hands down his chest, feeling bones, and muscle, still undeveloped, but on their way to something notable. Stephen took after his father's side of the family: he was tall and lean known more for speed than strength. Not that Amatis cared either way. She moved her fingers across the black runes covering his body, from the speech rune on the side of his neck, on down to healing runes over his heart, and the duel combat runes on either side of his rib cage.

Stephen's pants rode low on his hips, revealing a thin line of blond hair beneath his navel. Amatis touched his stomach there, running her index finger up the trail of hair. Stephen's stomach got warm where she touched it. He felt familiar tightness, the need to somehow spread his knees more, and perhaps touch himself. Stephen started to say something and stopped. He didn't want to tell Amatis how badly he wanted her. He wanted her to already know.

"I love you," Stephen said. He reached down and released the button on Amatis's pants. When she didn't protest, he pulled her pants over her hips. She was wearing pink, lacy panties which couldn't have served any logical purpose as far as underpants were concerned. Amatis was still wearing her flannel shirt which might have come from Luke's closet. The combination of tough and innocent made Stephen suddenly, noticeably hard.

Amatis smiled, looked down, and unbuttoned Stephen's pants. She pulled them down and he kicked them away as she ran her fingers across the taut skin between his hips. There was a scar down there shaped like a star, burned into his skin as if it had been placed there before Stephen was even born. Amatis moved her fingers over the scar, then slipped her hand down Stephen's cotton boxer shorts. She gripped his shaft with a tight fist and began to stroke it.

"What are you doing?" Stephen mumbled. He moved his hips a little, pressing himself into her hand, then stopped himself.

"No one is going to see us," Amatis said. "Let me touch you." Stephen shook his head, pushed her hands away, and unbuttoned her shirt. His hands were shaking.

The shirt parted to reveal her breasts, which he only caught glimpses of before. Stephen touched them and ran his thumbs over her nipples. The tiny pink nubs hardened almost instantly. Stephen leaned down and flicked is tongue over one of her nipples, then the other.

Amatis moaned and sunk her fingers into the hair on the back of Stephen's head. He dropped his hips against her lower stomach and kissed the sweet skin on her neck. He licked her collar bones as she gasped against his chest. Stephen rubbed himself against her, causing her to pull her knees up, and open them wider.

Somehow, Amatis pulled down his shorts and tossed them away. Stephen tangled his hands in her hair and kissed her lips, tangling his tongue with hers as he pressed his shaft against the lace of Amatis's panties. He reached down, finally, and touched himself, stroking carefully as Amatis watched, still smiling. She was hot beneath him, her hands racing over his chest as she clutched him close and began to whisper her desires.

Stephen moved away from her, pulled her panties down, and admired her perfect, beautiful, naked body beneath him. He lay between her legs and touched the insides of her thighs carefully, following closely with his lips. Amatis dug her freshly manicured toes into the soft dirt beneath them. She moaned; Stephen shivered. He kissed to the middle of her hips, then down the lowest part of his stomach. He wet his lips and flicked his tongue against her clit.

"Stephen!" Amatis exclaimed. Stephen flicked his tongue again, and then pushed her legs apart as he kissed deeper. Amatis stopped protesting. She began to grind against his tongue and sunk her nails into his scalp. Amatis begged for more than Stephen was giving, but he knew from enough locker room conversations that the first time would be painful for her.

Either he wasn't experienced enough yet, or she just wasn't ready, but he couldn't get her to come. Instead, Stephen sat back up to find Amatis now spread eagle on the grass. She was still wearing the flannel shirt. Her hair had come loose from its bun. Her cheeks were bright red with a blush and she was smiling as if the most perfect feeling just passed through her body. All of the times Stephen wanted to be with her and found a reason not to be with her were suddenly meaningless.

When he slipped inside, Amatis arched her back and grabbed Stephen by the waist, controlling his thrusts. Stephen moved inside of her a few times, feeling her break for him, with him. Amatis was in pain and pleasure all at once. Logical screamed in the back of Stephen's mind, listing all of the consequences to this encounter. He really did consider pulling out, but seconds later unraveled deep inside of her.

It had happened then, though they wouldn't know for sure until later. They were together several times since then, before and after the wedding, but the first time had been different. Four weeks later, on their wedding day, Amatis was two weeks late.

"Stephen- William- Herondale!" Luke yelled. Stephen didn't turn back. He just held on tight and prayed his horse would be able to outrun Luke's.

Nicias galloped until she crested a hill and a large manor house came into view. There was a lake behind the house which reflected the late afternoon sun. Stephen was forced to pull up then as Luke trotted up beside him.

"Were you planning on this?" Luke asked. "What happened?"

"I assure you, you don't want to know," Stephen said. "We had some wine. One thing led to another…" Luke covered his ears and howled. "According to the Brothers the baby will arrive in March. No one knows. I don't want this getting back to my parents before I can tell them. I know, it's bad."

"Why do you assume that?" Luke asked. "It's a baby. It's an exciting time. It's my little niece or nephew I get to spoil rotten. It's a great thing, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's really great," Stephen said. "Right?" Luke smiled eagerly and nodded. Stephen let out the breath he was holding and smiled back. Everything would be wonderful.

* * *

><p>They put their horses into a paddock close to the house, then went up the front steps of the manor house and rang the doorbell. Somewhere, music was playing and people were talking. The door opened and a man looked out.<p>

Valentine Morgenstern was a formidable man. Stephen was just less than six feet tall, with Luke three inches taller. Valentine towered over them both, an immoveable wall of muscle. His silver blond hair was cut close to his head. His eyes were dark and were his most noticeable feature, beyond the fact that he was extremely good looking.

"Brother!" Valentine exclaimed. He reached for Luke, pulled him close, and kissed him on the cheek. It would have been strange had they not been parabatai and hadn't already swore, at the age of 15, to defend on another to death. Stephen saw parabatai greet one another far more intimately.

"Sorry I'm late," Luke said quickly. "I just got… hung up…"

"Nonsense, you're here now," Valentine said. "And Stephen, how good it is to see you again." Valentine came to Stephen's wedding, then again, so had half of Alicante. "Come in, come in, we're just sitting out back."

Luke and Stephen followed Valentine through the house and outside to a patio which overlooked the lake. A collection of people were sitting on some cushions in a circle. Stephen recognized Robert Lightwood, who graduated from the Academy a year before Stephen had. Robert's parabatai, Michael Wayland, sat close by. He had been Stephen's roommate at the Academy. Hodge Starkweather, Valentine's adviser and a close friend, was there. Maryse Lightwood, Robert's wife, was sitting with Jocelyn Fairchild- Morgenstern, Valentine's wife. A young girl sat close by, no older than 17, it seemed. She had long, blond hair that twisted into waves the same way Stephen's did. Her eyes were light hazel, nearly gold.

"Her name is Celine," Valentine mumbled. "I thought your wife was coming with you."

"She wasn't feeling well," Stephen said.

"So she's expecting?" Valentine asked. Stephen blushed. "You can tell us. You can trust The Circle, Stephen. We're family here."

"Yes, she's pregnant," Stephen said. "About three months along."

"Congratulations!" Valentine exclaimed. "It would seem as though our little Circle is expanding one way or another. Maryse is due in the fall. Jocelyn and I have wonderful news to share as well."

Jocelyn turned her head at the sound of her name. She had long, red hair and bright green eyes. She met Valentine in school the way Stephen met Amatis. Jocelyn grew up with Luke, and they were still close friends. Luke might have loved her once before, but that was before.

"We're going to have a baby," Jocelyn said.

"A baby?" Luke asked. He didn't bother to keep the shock out of his voice. Stephen wondered if Jocelyn ever knew the truth about Luke, and if she had, how things could have been different. "Congratulations… this is exciting news."

"Thank you," Valentine said. He clasped Luke's hand in a handshake and released it. On the other side of the patio, Jocelyn smiled and laughed as she accepted congratulations from everyone. Valentine walked over and kissed her on the cheek, placing a hand on her stomach.

When the celebrating was done, Valentine invited everyone to sit down. Luke sat a few feet away from Jocelyn, sharing a cushion with Hodge, who sat beside Valentine. The only other seat still open was beside Celine, who sat on Valentine's left side. Stephen sat next to her, close enough to find that she smelled warm and sweet, like orange blossoms and cotton. Celine was wearing a light brown dress, with an amulet strung around her neck. When Stephen shook her hand, she held his for a beat longer than necessary.

"Tea?" Valentine asked. Stephen shook his head, trying to forget about orange blossoms and girly girls who wore short dresses to Circle meetings. Luke glared; Stephen moved a few inches away from Celine and accepted a cup of tea.

The tea was sweet and delicious. It had calming affects, not unlike alcohol, with no dizzying side effects. Stephen had two cups as he listened to Valentine speak. He was, as everyone said, hypnotic. Stephen spent a solid hour drinking sweet tea and getting drunk on the words coming from Valentine's mouth.

Valentine spoke about the Clave, and how their laws felt archaic and wrong. The downworlders- vampires, werewolves, faeries and warlocks- all lived by their own rules. To ask the Shadowhunters to follow a set of laws while every other creature didn't have to felt wrong. It was wrong. The Shadowhunters weren't allowed to go out and kill for sport; why should the werewolves be allowed to do the same? Valentine didn't want to see anyone hurt; he only wanted the laws reformed.

The meeting ended just as the sun began to descend towards the horizon. Valentine asked Robert and Hodge to join him inside the house for a meeting Stephen knew had something to do with him. In the mean time, everyone else was told that "the last person in the water is out of the Circle." Luke jumped up, stripped down to his shorts, and jumped into the lake.

"I don't have anything to swim in," Stephen said. Celine stripped naked and jumped into the water.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out," Valentine said with a wink. He disappeared into the house.

Apparently, the Lightwoods were exempt from swimming. They were always exempt from things. It should have been the opposite; there were so many of them, they could spare a few for the more grisly missions they otherwise got out of. Jocelyn gave Stephen a sympathetic smile before relaxing with Maryse on some cushions. She was good friends with Amatis, but didn't seem to have anything to say to Stephen. Robert came out of the house after a few minutes. He kissed Maryse, then lay down beside her.

In the end, Stephen undressed and went into the water with Michael. Once submerged in the water, Stephen felt himself relax as he floated on his back close to Michael and made casual small talk. Back in school, they were close friends. They had similar features and shared the same bright blond hair and blue eyes. They were more than likely related somehow. Early on, people got them mixed up, less so now that Michael had a wife and three month old son.

"So when are you getting married, Lucian?" Michael asked.

"When I find a girl I can tolerate for more than a night," Luke replied.

"Seems like the master expects you to go forth and multiply as soon as possible," Stephen said.

"Fuck off, Stephen," Luke said. "And Valentine's not the master. Have some respect."

"You're dragging us down, Graymark," Michael said. "How are we going to make new Shadowhunters if you don't do your part to make us some?"

"I guess Jocelyn will have to do the work for me," Luke said.

Celine was floating on her back, close to Stephen. She still wore her amulet around her neck, which, upon closer examination, appeared to be a cross with a loop at the top.

"It's an ankh," Celine said. "The Egyptian symbol for eternal life." The amulet was nestled between her breasts and drew Stephen's eyes down, forcing him to compare her to Amatis. Luke cleared her throat.

"Is there a bathroom inside?" Stephen asked.

"Through the kitchen, first door on the left," Celine replied. She dove under the water. A second later, Luke gasped.

Stephen climbed out of the water. He went to the patio, where fresh towels were laid out, and dried off before walking inside. He found the bathroom with no problem, used it, and walked back out through the kitchen to find Valentine sitting at the kitchen table with two glasses of an amber liquid in front of him. Hodge walked through the kitchen, glanced at Valentine, bit his lip to hide a smile, and went outside. Stephen watched him go. Hodge Starkweather was shaping up to be a strange bird indeed.

"Come have a drink, son," Valentine said.

"I shouldn't," Stephen said. "I shouldn't drink, I mean. I have to get home and my horse doesn't know the way." Valentine nodded, picked up a drink, and walked over to Stephen. Valentine was shirtless and dressed to swim. Outside, Hodge leapt into the water as the sun's last rays cast themselves across the sky.

"Luke tells me you have a home in Alicante," Valentine said. Stephen nodded. "Don't your parents have a manor house close by? Can't you live there?"

"I would rather not," Stephen said. "My father and I…" Valentine held up a hand.

"Say no more. It's in your nature to go against your father's wishes," Valentine said. "Herondales are known for their… father issues. Why there hasn't yet been a Herondale boy who didn't step away from the nest for at least a little while." Stephen nodded again. "You've got to discover who you are, Stephen. Not who your father wants you to be." Valentine laid a hand over Stephen's heart. Stephen looked down at it, then back up at Valentine. "He's the one who drove you away, right?"

"Right," Stephen said. "I'm an adult. I can make my own decisions."

"Right," Valentine said. "You've got a good head on your shoulders. I have big plans for you. Herondales have always been known to… burn bright."

Stephen looked back outside, wondering if he was or wasn't in the Circle. He watched Luke hold Celine in his arms as they floated in the water.

"He's heartbroken," Valentine said. "I know about he and Jocelyn. There are two types of men, Stephen. The ones who watch things happen, and the ones who make things happen. Who are you?"

Back in school, Stephen had an instructor who asked the same thing. He had yet to figure out the answer. Luke tossed Celine into the air. She laughed and screamed as she splashed into the water. Luke chased after her. They dove under together and came back up. Stephen wanted to bet Luke wasn't spending the night alone.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Valentine asked.

"I'm married," Stephen replied.

"But surely you can have an opinion…"

"She's a very pretty girl."

Valentine looked back outside to see Celine climb out of the water. His jaw clenched as he observed everyone in his Circle. Stephen would come to understand Valentine's facial expressions better then he could understand his words.

"She's my sister," Valentine said. "Adopted. Her parents died in a fire when she was young. Fucking warlocks, you know. Shoddy with their magic." Stephen nodded. "You and she would make beautiful babies, what with your blond hair, and eyes… She's a Midwinter by birth, raised Morgenstern. Your children would be powerful."

"I'm married," Stephen said. "My wife is expecting."

"Of course," Valentine said. "You're far too young to have a wife and baby." Stephen shrugged. "Come back tomorrow night, alone. Pack some weapons and a change of clothes. If you want to be in the Circle, you'll need to pass initiation. Plan on spending the night." He patted Stephen on the back. "I see big things in your future, Stephen. Big things, indeed."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Thanks for reading! What do you think? Please review.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2: Initiation

**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who gave the first chapter a chance. I really love reviews and hearing what everyone has to say so feel free to review. It does motivate me to keep writing. Thanks to Amoz for the advice and guidance, and to everyone who came over from the Infernal Devices, welcome, and thank you. Enjoy this chapter, and please review!**

**Song Credit: Yes, by Coldplay**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2: Initiation<strong>

_When it started we had high hopes;__  
><em>_now my back's on the line, my back's on the ropes...__  
><em>_When it started we were alright,__  
><em>_but night makes a fool of us in daylight._

_There we were dying of frustration,__  
><em>_saying, "Lord lead me not into temptation."__  
><em>_But it's not easy when she turns you on...__  
><em>

Stephen got home late that night to find Amatis sound asleep in their second floor bedroom. She was uncovered and had a book in her hand, so Stephen covered her and took the book from her, making certain to mark the page she was on. Then, he went into the bathroom and started the shower. Stephen was just relaxing beneath the slightly warm water when he felt two hands latch on his waist, causing his body to shudder involuntarily. Stephen spun around to see Amatis behind him.

"You're jumpy," Amatis said. She ran her hands up his chest and rested them on his shoulders. Stephen placed his hands on her lower back and kissed her on the forehead.

"I love you," Stephen said. He ran a hand down her body and rested his palm on her lower stomach, which had begun to swell with her pregnancy. The fact that she was actually pregnant was all becoming real. It was like some sort of miracle only they got to experience.

Stephen swore he met Amatis on the first day of the rest of his life. He had just moved from London to Idris for school, and was living in the dorms while his parents settled into their manor house outside of Alicante. He was home sick, though he didn't want to admit it, and dealing with the growing pains associated with striking out on one's own. On the first day of classes, Stephen was sitting beneath an oak tree, close to the front gates of the Academy when Amatis walked in. She was so unlike any other girl he had ever seen, he immediately took notice.

Amatis was beautiful in a subtle way. Her eyes were either blue or grey depending on the light. They reminded him of his Aunt Tessa, a warlock that was close with the Herondale family so much so, they invited her to family events. That first day, Stephen was prepared to walk up to Amatis and introduce himself, but she walked right past him without even noticing the blond haired boy sitting beneath the oak tree.

So the next day, he sat there again, and when Amatis walked into the front gates of the school, Stephen introduced himself and offered to carry her books. The rest was history.

Before Stephen knew it, they were studying and making out in the Library at all hours of the day. Amatis was bringing cookies and treats to his dorm room and causing Stephen to gain five pounds despite eight hours of daily battle training. Every morning, they met at the front gates, and every night, Stephen walked her home. There was no question of what was happening: Stephen went to bed one night not knowing what love was, and woke up the next morning madly in love with Amatis Graymark.

They waited four months before introducing one another to their families. Stephen's parents didn't approve of Amatis, and Luke was wary of Stephen, but it didn't matter. They were in love. Stephen was just barely 18 and Amatis was just a few months younger than him. They were young and stupid- everyone said so- but that didn't even matter. One week before graduation, Stephen got down on one knee beneath the oak tree where they first met, and asked Amatis to spend the rest of her life with him.

The wedding was massive. In Shadowhunter culture, the groom's family paid for the wedding, and the Herondale family spared no expense. There was a six foot tall icing covered fruit cake decorated with tiny blue roses. There was more food and drink than possible to consume. After the formal dinner, there was a masquerade ball. Stephen and Amatis danced until the sun was high in the sky the next day, celebrating their love. Stephen felt that he had found all that was needed to be found in the world.

Following the wedding, Stephen and Amatis went to Italy, where they stayed in the Venice Institute for six weeks. When they came home, it was perfectly acceptable that they move into the manor house with Stephen's parents, who welcomed them with open arms. Had Stephen not fought with his father over the Circle, and had he not told his father that he was an adult who could make his own decisions, which included where he was going to live, he and Amatis could have been there now.

Instead, Stephen was now passionately kissing Amatis in a tiny shower in a tiny bathroom in a tiny house wedged between two other canal houses. Stephen could hear when the neighbors were cooking dinner. He could hear them having sex. He could hear… well… He hadn't expected his newlywed nest to be quite so loud… and cramped… and so unlike any place he had lived before. But Amatis was there, and Amatis made it home.

The water in the shower ran ice cold suddenly. Stephen leapt out, with Amatis following, because the water was only warm for a little while before it went ice cold, then scalding hot. Amatis offered Stephen a towel, which he took to dry off.

"So what's the Circle like?" Amatis asked. Stephen shrugged. "You can't talk about it, or what?"

"It was nice. We sat around, drank tea, talked…" Stephen said.

"It's two in the morning. You left the house at three in the afternoon. What else did you do?" Amatis asked.

"We just talked and drank tea," Stephen said. "Jocelyn Fairchild is pregnant. So is Maryse Lightwood. Michael Wayland's wife just had a baby. We'll fit right in. Valentine is pleased with everyone, so it seems. Valentine's approval means everything." Stephen left the bathroom and walked into their bedroom.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Amatis asked. She pulled the covers back on their bed and climbed in. Stephen lay down beside her.

"He just cares, is all. He's thrilled that the members of his Circle are reproducing. It was strange," Stephen said.

"Strange?"

"When he spoke, no one talked. Only Hodge commented on things. Everyone else sat there with this brainwashed look on their faces. Like Valentine was their god and what he said was their gospel. It was weird," Stephen said. "Jocelyn said maybe three words all night, like she was afraid to say anything. It was probably because I was there."

"So are you in the Circle or not?" Amatis asked.

"I have initiation tomorrow night. I can tell you more then," Stephen said. "I can always quit the Circle, you know. But I think it's worth checking out."

"As long as you think it's right," Amatis said. She grabbed Stephen's hand and put it on her stomach. Stephen kissed the top of her neck and breathed in her familiar scent. Amatis smelled nothing like orange blossoms and cotton. Her scent was a warm and comforting mix of ashes and rose water perfume.

"I hope it's right," Stephen mumbled.

* * *

><p>At sundown that night, Stephen arrived at the Fairchild manor with everything Valentine told him to pack, and nothing more. They enjoyed a large dinner with Jocelyn and Celine, and then left at midnight, on foot, for Stephen's initiation into The Circle.<p>

Valentine was silent as they tromped through trees a few miles away from the manor. High above, the moon was full in sky filled with stars. Idris came alive at night, and more so on the night of a full moon. Far off, in the distance, werewolves howled. Vampires would be out socializing along with the warlocks that lived in Idris. There was even a lake close to Alicante that played host to a monthly gathering of faeries. Per the Accords, most everyone left each other well enough alone.

In time, they came to a grove of trees they hid in the shadows of. Valentine knelt on the ground and invited Stephen to crouch beside him. They faced a small clearing bathed in bright moonlight. Valentine gripped Stephen's shoulder.

"You will swear to absolute secrecy. You must not speak of anything that happens tonight. Not to Luke, not to your wife, and to no one else in The Circle. Am I understood?" Valentine asked.

"Sir, yes sir," Stephen mumbled. Valentine scowled for the briefest of seconds.

"Swear by the angel," Valentine said. Stephen sighed and held a hand up.

"I do solemnly swear by the Angel that tonight never happened," He said.

"Very good, Stephen," Valentine said. "Remember what I said before. I can see you doing great things in your life time. Great things." Stephen nodded. "You might want to know why we are here tonight. The answer is before you." Valentine pointed into the clearing.

A man walked into the clearing from the grove of trees opposite Stephen and Valentine. Valentine's hand closed around the dagger at his hip. Stephen glanced down at it, and then looked back up. The man's skin was translucent white in the moonlight, as if the life had been drained from his body. He was a creature accustomed to darkness, which would burn to ash if forced into daylight.

"That's a vampire, Stephen," Valentine mumbled.

"Really?" Stephen whispered, "I was expecting black clothes and fangs and a Transylvanian accent. You've disappointed me." Valentine gave Stephen a murderous gaze.

"Kill it," he said. He pulled a dagger from his weapons belt and offered it to Stephen. Stephen felt a laugh nearly escape his lips, until he looked into Valentine's eyes and saw that this was no laughing matter. Valentine's eyes were cold and dark, his mouth was set into a hard line on concentration. "I want to know if you can follow orders. The Circle is about taking care of that which needs to be taken care of. Kill the vampire, or you're out of The Circle."

"That violates the Accords. It's unjustifiable death," Stephen said.

"Do you need everything justified?" Valentine asked. "Fine. That's a vampire, and a young one at that. It drinks blood to survive. Given the chance, it would drink your blood. Sure, you can spare the vampire's life. But would it do the same for you?" Stephen looked out into the clearing. Another vampire had joined the first. They were conversing quietly.

Of the few vampires Stephen met, most were older and accustomed to being around mortals. In the beginning, young vampires craved blood constantly. Everything about these vampires gave evidence to support that they were young. If they were human, Stephen would have described them as "on edge." As they spoke, their heads moved subtly, picking up various noises with their hyper sensitive hearing. They could probably hear that Stephen's heart was pounding, that hot, salty blood pulsed through his veins. Stephen moved his hand slowly and rested his palm in the hilt of his dagger.

"Humans have self control. That's what keeps us from killing one another when the mood strikes," Valentine said. "These vampires, they have nothing. They act on pure instinct and raw desire. They're demons that only look human. They deserve to die like any other demon."

He justified it in a way that Stephen wanted to agree with. The maddest men always have the soundest arguments.

"Is this what you did to Luke? And Robert? And Maryse? And Michael? You made them commit murder just to see if they would?" Stephen asked.

"Of course not," Valentine said. "I would never force someone to do anything. Besides, they joined the Circle before I chose to take it in a new direction. I told you I have big plans for you. Those plans start with this." Valentine offered his dagger to Stephen. "Show me you can do it. Make me believe in you."

"You're fucking insane," Stephen said. "You're violating the Accords. This is wrong. I'm reporting you to the Clave." Stephen straightened up and turned his back on Valentine, prepared to walk away.

"That's what they all say," Valentine mumbled. "Oh, Stephen? You forgot something." Stephen turned around just as Valentine leapt at him. The blade of his dagger dug into Stephen's forearm and sliced through his skin, all the way down to his wrist. Hot, red liquid rushed out of the cut, ran down Stephen's arm, and filled his palm with blood in an instant.

In the clearing, the vampires lifted their heads as if startled. Their eyes grew wide and they turned, quickly, and scanned the grove of trees, searching for prey. Stephen pressed a hand to his arm but couldn't staunch the flow of blood. In the moonlight, the vampires opened their mouths as their fangs revealed themselves. Valentine grabbed Stephen by the back of his shirt and thrust him into the clearing.

There was no time to think, or even react. Something slammed into Stephen, knocking him to the ground. One of the vampires landed on his chest and leaned forward, prepared to bite down on the exposed portion of Stephen's neck. Stephen ripped the dagger from his belt and kicked the vampire as he shoved the blade into its neck. The creature shrieked and dissolved into dust.

Stephen leapt to his feet as the second vampire rushed at him. This one was much bigger than the first, and when it's body slammed into Stephen's chest, his ribs cracked. Somewhere far away, Valentine was yelling something, but Stephen heard it as though he was at the bottom of a well. His wrist ached as blood hemorrhaged from the cut on his arm. His chest felt full of white hot pain. The ground rushed up at Stephen as he staggered across the clearing and slammed backwards into a tree.

"By the Angel, Stephen!" Valentine cried, "Are you really going to get beaten by a FLEDGLING! What kind of Shadowhunter are you?" Stephen opened his eyes just as the vampire raked five sharp nails across Stephen's chest, tearing his skin. Stephen fell forward, his dagger raised, and stabbed the vampire in the chest, missing it's heart by inches. "Do you even know what you're doing, Stephen?"

A fist slammed into the side of Stephen's head, knocking him to the ground. When Stephen tried to get to his feet, the vampire struck him again, knocking him back to the ground. Stephen got to his feet and came at the vampire again, this time stabbing it in the neck and wounding it. Then, Stephen grabbed it by its head and twisted it's neck until bones cracked against his arm. The vampire fell to the ground and stared up at Stephen. It was gasping like a fish out of water, despite not needing to breathe.

"It's not dead yet!" Valentine exclaimed. He danced into the clearing, clapping his hands. "You need to KILL it, Stephen, not hurt it. It can heal from a broken neck. You need to finish it off."

Stephen fell to his knees beside the vampire. One of the vampire's hands was around it's throat as it choked and gurgled. Demons never suffered before death, but this wasn't a demon.

"Finish it, Stephen. It's a vampire. A parasite. It wanted you to die and to become like it. Kill it. KILL IT!" Valentine yelled.

The vampire turned and looked Stephen in the eyes, begging him silently. It seemed so human in this moment, lying in wait for a death that would claim it. Stephen lifted his dagger with a shaking hand and plunged it into the vampire's throat. The vampire dissolved the way a demon would have.

Stephen fainted.

* * *

><p>When he came to, there was nothing but darkness surrounding Stephen. His face felt bruised and swollen. His entire body shivered as he lay cradled in Valentine's warm, comforting arms. Valentine was running his hand through Stephen's hair, quietly saying things.<p>

"Oh, my poor boy," Valentine mumbled. "Oh, my little Angel boy, you must not die. I have far too many dreams for you."

"I'm going to be sick," Stephen said. His stomach rolled and his mind spun in dizzying circles. He laid his head against Valentine's chest, willing the world to stop turning, just for a second. Valentine rubbed Stephen's upper back, the same way Stephen's mother used to whenever he got sick as a child.

"You were so brave," Valentine said. "You're a good boy, Stephen. You did what you were told. I'm proud of you. You must know that, Stephen. I'm proud of you."

All Stephen did was kill two vampires who wanted him dead, and Valentine was proud of him. Stephen disobeyed the Accords, and Valentine was proud of him.

"You did such a good job," Valentine said. "You're a good boy who did such a good job."

"A good job," Stephen mumbled.

"The best job," Valentine said. "You and I could do great things together, Stephen. Great things." Stephen nodded. The world stopped turning and became right again. Two vampires had threatened Stephen's life. They needed to die, and so they died. "Come now, let's go home."

Valentine helped Stephen stand up, and allowed him to lean on him the entire walk back to Fairchild Manor. Once there, Stephen was pointed to a room which contained a large bed. Stephen fell onto the bed and passed out cold.

Sometime later, Stephen awoke to someone humming softly as a feeling of warmth traced itself across his chest. He opened his eyes to find Celine standing at his bedside, dressed in a low cut ivory nightgown which left little to the imagination. She was holding a sponge to his arm, which was covered with dried blood. His body felt cool and moist and his skin smelled like lavender soap. Stephen glanced down to see that his shirt was off.

"How are you feeling?" Celine asked. Stephen shook his head and felt his brain throb. He moved a hand beneath the blankets and found himself completely naked.

"Excuse me, what are you doing?" Stephen asked. He pulled his arm away and tried to pull the sheet up higher.

"I'm washing you off," Celine said. "Valentine said you were all bloody and needed cleaned up. You've been unconscious for a few hours."

"I'm more than capable of cleaning myself," Stephen snapped.

"Yes, but you were unconscious, so I did it for you," Celine said. "It's no big deal, Stephen. Do you really think you're the first Circle member I've had to patch up?" She grabbed his arm, rewet the sponge, and again ran it down his arm, over the still tender cut Valentine left behind. "How are you feeling?" Stephen shook his head and closed his eyes somewhat. He longed for his own tiny bed at home, and for Amatis, who was sleeping alone tonight. "This is most certain to scar. I have something that should minimize that. Are you in any pain?" Celine's hand felt warm in his. She seemed to care about Stephen, despite not knowing him at all.

"I don't feel good," Stephen said. "Can I get some water?"

"I have something better," Celine said. She lifted a mug from the bedside table and offered it to Stephen. He took a sip, and then drank all of it. The liquid quenched his thirst and made him feel stronger. Most all of his aches dissolved away.

"What is this?" Stephen asked. Celine shrugged.

"Valentine makes it. He's been giving it to Jocelyn when she feels ill with her pregnancy. She's been depressed, you know," Celine whispered. "This pregnancy has been difficult on her. Truth be told, she's a bit crazy. Always hearing things. When she raves, we just pretend she's not." Stephen nodded. Celine finished cleaning his arm. She took a small bit of salve from a jar the bedside table and massaged it into the scar on his forearm. Stephen looked over at her. Tonight, she wasn't wearing any make up, but she didn't need to. She was lovely in her natural state. In this light, her gold eyes were a warm brown. "I saw how you were looking at me the other night. You find me beautiful."

"I'm a married man," Stephen mumbled. "I can appreciate your beauty, yes. But I won't do anything about it. I have a wife, and a child on the way."

"I see," Celine said. She touched one rune on his forearm, and then ran her fingers up his bicep, across his chest to the other rune, situated over his heart. On their wedding day, Amatis wore a silver dress and stood beside Stephen as etched those very runes into his skin. He did the same to her, and then, they were suddenly married. "You don't have to deny it, Stephen. You're allowed to feel whatever you want. Love, lust… anger… jealousy…" Celine's touch was warm and light. Waves of heat spread through Stephen's body, from his chest, down to between his legs. Stephen's eyes flickered closed and he moaned as his cock stiffened beneath the sheets.

"I think you need to leave," Stephen said.

"Or what?" Celine asked. She crawled onto the bed, straddled his waist, and sat down on top of him. "What will you do, Stephen?" She massaged the bruised and cut flesh across his chest. Stephen gasped a little. He arched his back, pressing his chest into her hands.

"Celine… no," Stephen said. "I'm not…" Celine drew a strap of her nightgown aside and took Stephen's right hand. She placed it on her breast.

"To the victor go the spoils," Celine whispered. "You were strong and brave tonight, Stephen. You should be rewarded." She moved her hips, pressing herself against his cock. Stephen's left hand… his infernal left hand… reached up and grabbed her other breast as the other strap of her nightgown fell down. Suddenly, he had his hands on bare breasts. He squeezed them gently, marveling how they fit into his hands just right. Celine smiled and moved her hips again. She brushed her lips against his, exhaling a soft, peppermint scented breath. Stephen kissed her once, then, again. She offered her tongue and he accepted it. Everything about her was soft, sweet, and innocent.

"No," Stephen mumbled. Celine kissed him again, pushing herself against his body. She pulled her straps down so that they nightgown fell around her waist, completely exposing her breasts to him. She was warm between her legs, and no doubt wet. Celine was offering herself to him, and was his for the taking. It only had to happen once, then never again. Amatis would never have to know.

Amatis. Amatis was his wife and she was sleeping alone tonight.

"Celine, no!" Stephen exclaimed. "Get the fuck out of my room! Get out! I don't want you!" He only wanted Amatis.

Celine smiled triumphantly and climbed out of the bed. Stephen waited until she was halfway across the room, then jumped up, pulled on some pants, and showed her to the door. He drew a Locking rune beneath the door knob in case Celine got the bright idea to stop back, then crawled back into bed and wished for sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please review. Please? Here is a teaser to the next chapter.<strong>

"He's gotten to you already!" Jocelyn exclaimed. "What can he give you that you don't already have? You don't need this life. Run, Stephen. Run away from this."


	3. Chapter 3: The Errors of Our Fathers

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews. I would like to see more, please. If anything, just let me know you're reading this story. It just makes the process more enjoyable, to know that my chapters are being read. Please? Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3: The Errors of Our Fathers<strong>

When Stephen opened his eyes again, the sky was just begging to lighten. Somewhere, in the house, a baby was screaming. Stephen climbed from his bed, found some pants, pulled them on, and left the room. He went downstairs, searching for the baby, but ended up in the kitchen. He drank three glasses of water, to quench his thirst and clear his mind.

"By the Angel," Someone whispered. Stephen spun around. Jocelyn was sitting at the kitchen table, holding a mug of tea, dressed in pajamas. Her shirt strained against her stomach, which had grown since the night before.

"I didn't see you there," Stephen said. "I needed water…"

"Last month it was Michael who Valentine brought back here, covered in blood and near death," Jocelyn said. "Are you alright?" Stephen looked down to see his chest covered with purple, slowly healing bruises.

"I'm fine," Stephen said. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I couldn't sleep," Jocelyn said. She sipped her tea and looked down at the floor. "Once in a while I wake up to the sound of a baby screaming and crying. Try as I may, I can't seem to find it… to comfort it. You can hear it to." Jocelyn looked up into Stephen's eyes as the baby's cries took on a higher pitch.

"Hear what? I don't hear anything!" Stephen snapped.

"You hear something," Jocelyn said. "Come with me." She stood up and left the kitchen. Stephen followed her down the hallway and into a room filled with bookshelves and a desk. She closed the door behind them and lit a candle, then stepped so close to Stephen, he could smell the honeysuckle soap she used. Behind her, the candle flickered, casting imposing shadows on the walls. "There's something in the basement. Valentine won't let me go down there, but every night, I hear the baby crying. You hear it to."

"I don't," Stephen mumbled. There was no use denying it. "Who would put a baby in the basement?"

"I don't know," Jocelyn said. She ran her hands through her hair. "Valentine was normal when we married. Now… he's not right, Stephen! He's been doing things to me, to my baby." Stephen recalled Celine saying that Jocelyn was going a bit crazy.

"Why would your husband want to do things to your baby?" Stephen asked.

"I don't know," Jocelyn said. "Look at this. Would a normal baby be able to do this to its mother?" Jocelyn pulled her shirt up to show several dark bruises across her stomach. At the moment, the baby was kicking her repetitively, in the same spot, forming another bruise.

"Why would Valentine want to harm you?" Stephen asked.

"I don't know!" Jocelyn exclaimed. The ceiling above them creaked. Stephen looked up, straining his ears to hear, but heard nothing else. Jocelyn stepped closer and lowered her voice. "He's dosing me with something, I know it. He wants this baby to be powerful. He's trying to breed a race of superior Shadowhunters. Stephen…" Jocelyn placed her hands on Stephen's jaw, holding his head stationary. "You're a good boy, Stephen. Run. Tell someone. None of this can possibly be right." Jocelyn's green eyes filled with tears. "Please, Stephen. Stop him."

Stephen wanted to believe Jocelyn. After all, he had seen Valentine in full, crazy, action. Valentine harmed Stephen, and then put him in harm's way by tempting two vampires to feed on his blood. Killing the vampires for no reason was unjustified, but when they came to attack, Stephen had to defend himself. All Downworlders were volatile. Today, there were two less vampires the Shadowhunters had to worry about.

"Jocelyn, darling, I think you need to go back to sleep," Stephen said. "Valentine would never do anything to hurt you or the baby. Come along, now." He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door.

"You have to believe me!" Jocelyn cried. "He likes you, Stephen! He's been watching you since you were just a boy. He wants to build an army and he wants your help. You can stop this. No one should have to die for what only he believes is right."

"No one is going to die," Stephen said easily. "Come along, Jocelyn. You raving like this isn't good for the baby."

"He's gotten to you already!" Jocelyn exclaimed. "What can he give you that you don't already have? You don't need this life. Run, Stephen. Run away from this."

"Jocelyn?" A voice asked from the door. This certainly didn't look good, what with Stephen half dressed and Jocelyn in her nightgown in a dark room, never mind what they were discussing. Jocelyn gave Stephen a panicked look. He darted across the room and crawled beneath the desk as the door creaked open. "Jocelyn, honey, come back to bed. You raving like this isn't good for the baby." Stephen bit his bottom lip hard enough to taste blood. He wondered how long Valentine stood outside the door, and how much he heard.

The door closed. Stephen waited a least an hour, then crept from beneath the desk and went back upstairs. As soon as he got back to his room, he heard the crying again, as if an infant was entombed in the very walls of the manor house. Stephen crawled into bed, covered his ears, and lay there until Celine finally called him to breakfast.

* * *

><p>For all that occurred the night before, breakfast was a seemingly normal affair. When Stephen walked into the kitchen, Celine was cutting fresh strawberries as she cooked some crepes. Her blond hair was pulled back into a loose updo, with wispy stands framing her face. She was wearing a short green dress that skimmed the tops of her knees, and was barefoot.<p>

Valentine was sitting at the table with Jocelyn. Whereas Celine seemed beautiful and put together, Jocelyn was falling apart at the seams. Her hair was tangled and her eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles beneath them. Jocelyn looked the way Stephen felt.

Valentine looked up at Stephen and gave him a smile.

"Stephen, honey, how did you sleep?" Celine asked. Stephen blushed and avoided Valentine's eyes. Everyone that happened last night played through his mind on an endless loop. Stephen committed murder last night. Then, Celine saw him naked, and moreover, she made him want her.

"Fine," Stephen said. He sat down at the table and winced as the bruises on his back throbbed. Valentine slid a cup over to Stephen.

"It's just a little something to restore your strength," Valentine said. Jocelyn looked up from the table, fixing her eyes on Stephen. Stephen lifted the cup and drank it all.

"Excuse me," Jocelyn said. She put a hand over her mouth, stood up, and hurried away.

"She's had such a difficult pregnancy," Valentine mumbled. "Tea?"

* * *

><p>Breakfast proceeded from there. Celine served everyone crepes, bacon, sausage, and toast. They discussed the weather and Stephen's education at the Academy. Eventually, Jocelyn came back to finish her cup of tea, though she never joined the conversation. After the meal, Celine cleaned up, Jocelyn disappeared into another part of the house, and Valentine called Stephen outside to the patio, where they sat in chairs overlooking the lake.<p>

"Another scorcher today. One of the last," Valentine remarked. "I've always been partial to fall, myself. How about you, Stephen? What's your favorite season?"

Stephen looked over at Valentine, remembering the insane look in Valentine's dark eyes last night. Last night, Valentine sliced Stephen's arm open and threw him to two hungry fledgling vampires. Today, he wanted to make small talk.

"I like spring," Stephen said. "There's so much new life. The weather isn't so bad either. Everything dies in the fall. All of the beauty and majesty of the season can't make up for that." Valentine turned to Stephen, regarding him carefully.

"You seem upset about something," Valentine said. "What's the matter, son?"

"I'm not your son." The words came out nastier than Stephen intended. He bit his lip in the same place he made it bleed before.

"I know you're not," Valentine said. He leaned closer to Stephen and laid a hand on Stephen's arm, tracing his fingers over the scar his dagger left behind. "Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

"Your sister showed up in my room last night. She said you sent her," Stephen said.

"You were covered in blood and nearly unconscious. I saw nothing wrong with having Celine put you back to rights. I thought you would be comfortable with her," Valentine said. "Were you… comfortable with her, Stephen?"

Stephen's face burned bright red. He wanted to be angry about what happened between Celine, but the only person he had to be angry with was himself. Celine only wanted him because he wanted her. Valentine glanced inside, then moved closer to Stephen.

"Did something happen between you and Celine?" Valentine asked. "Something…. intimate?"

"NO!" Stephen exclaimed. "No. Nothing happened. Nothing at all." Valentine nodded as his mouth curved into a slight smile.

"I remember being your age. I would fuck anyone, given the chance. Why, I went through half of the girls in my class at the Academy before spring break," Valentine said. "Celine is a beautiful girl. You're allowed to feel something for her. You're married, not dead."

"I'm married," Stephen said. He was learning that some men knew what that meant, and some men only thought they did. "Nothing happened." Valentine sighed.

"I know last night was hard on you," he said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You violated the Accords," Stephen whispered. Every fiber in his being was screaming for him to run from this place the way Jocelyn told him to. Everything felt wrong in the harsh light of day.

"No, you violated the Accords," Valentine said. "All initiations are difficult. I just wanted to know if you could kill, not because it was the right thing to do at the time, but because it was the right thing to do in the grand scheme of things. Something wanted you dead, Stephen, yet you are still very much alive. The world is a better place because of you." Valentine laid his fingers over the pulse at Stephen's wrist.

Stephen looked out over the lake. Dragonflies flitted at its banks as bull frog croaked. A beautiful swan floated out near the other side of the lake. A small flock of grey herons circled overhead, and then dropped into the water, one by one.

"You have such a lovely home," Stephen said. "It's perfect."

"I owe it all to Jocelyn," Valentine replied. "I'm nothing without her. She believes in me, Stephen." Stephen nodded slowly. Valentine resumed running his fingers up Stephen's arm. "You broke your own horse, right?"

Stephen glanced over to the paddock to see Nicias grazing placidly. He was present at her birth when he was 14 years old. He weaned her from her mother, then, a year later, trained her to carry a rider. It had been a long and arduous month of being thrown off before Nicias would allow Stephen onto her back.

"In the beginning, she didn't want to carry a rider, but you broke her," Valentine said. "It wasn't pleasant, but in the end, you trained her from a wild creature to something of use. Right?" Stephen nodded. "I know you were scared last night, Stephen. You fought for your life, but in the end, you understood why I had to do that. I had to break you. I had to make sure you could suit my purposes. Do you understand? I meant you no harm."

"You only wanted me to do what you asked," Stephen said.

"You were very brave, Stephen. It took Michael an hour to do what you did in less than three minutes. You're strong. You can do great things," Valentine said. From his pocket, he brought out a silver amulet exactly like the one Celine wore and placed it on the table between them. "Last night never happened. If you want to walk away now, you're free to do so. Just ask yourself, before you go: Do you want to watch things happen, or do you want to make great things happen?"

Stephen picked up the amulet and dropped it over his head.

* * *

><p>Stephen left for home soon after. He spent the hour long journey sitting listlessly on Nicias's back, allowing her to trot when she wanted to, and canter when she felt like it. Finally, they neared the necropolis just outside of Alicante, where some Shadowhunter families buried their dead. Stephen couldn't figure out why he felt the need to stop, but he had dismounted, tied up Nicias, and was halfway through the cemetery before he knew what he was doing.<p>

His destination was a large mausoleum in the far corner of the graveyard. The mausoleum was made of marble, with the name "Herondale" written over the door and adorned with swooping birds. There was a large apple tree to the left of the mausoleum which shaded the building. Stephen sat down on the front step and laid his head back against the cool marble.

The mausoleum had been built by Stephen's namesake, Will. Like Stephen, Will grew up in the London Institute after coming there at the age of 12 from Wales, where the Herondale family was from originally. Will married an unremarkable Lightwood girl, had a family, and settled into the easy life of running the London Institute. He came to Idris every fifteen years to sign the Accords.

One year, Will came for the Accords and commissioned the Herondale Manor and Mausoleum to be built, the manor house as a vacation property, and the mausoleum as a place to bury the family's dead. Will wanted to be buried in the Silent City, but as the story went, he came to sign the Accords when he was 78 and died in Idris. His youngest son, Calvin, who was known even now as the black sheep of the family, chose to lay his father to rest in Idris instead of the Silent City. Three years later, Calvin joined his father in the Herondale mausoleum, and so it went. Every Herondale who died in Idris was placed in the family mausoleum.

Valentine spoke the truth regarding the Herondales. All of the boys were born with a desire to strike out on their own. Will ran away from home as a boy. Two of his sons, Jacob and Isaac, left home and were never heard from again. Calvin married young and stupid the way Stephen had and produced a son, Jonathan, who went to America, only to return home, penniless and broken spirited. Jonathan had four daughters with his wife and one son with his mistress. That son was Marcus, Stephen's father. Marcus took over the Institute when he was 22 and ran it until just last year. He was, possibly, the only upstanding Herondale left. Marcus didn't make waves. He stayed in London, did his job, and lived a monotonous life.

Stephen could have had that life. He could have taken a wife, had a family, and got a job doing something to serve the Clave. He had a solid education and most anyone would hire him to do most anything. He could have stayed home with his parents and given his children all of the same opportunities he had growing up, but that wasn't living, that was going through the motions of life. Now, Stephen was sitting on the front steps of his family's mausoleum, the blood of two vampires on his hands. Was this living?

Midway through his six month session at the Academy, Stephen came to the manor house and told his father about the Circle. Marcus was opposed to it. Valentine said that they laws needed to be changed, while Marcus felt that the laws were in place for a reason and should remain unchanged. Stephen agreed with Valentine and felt that laws were meant to adapt to the times in which they were enforced. Marcus maintained _Sed lex dura lex: _"the law is hard, but it is the law."Stephen and Marcus fought long and hard over their beliefs. That had been six months ago. Now, they barely spoke.

Stephen's stomach grumbled and he lay a hand on it. All through the performance of breakfast, he barely ate. Now, his mind was fuzzy and his stomach felt sour, the way it did after he woke up in school after a night of drinking contraband liquor. The marble was cool against his aching head. Stephen could have just opened the door to the mausoleum and crawled inside to take a nap with his ancestors, if not for the complicated locking rune etched into the door. Stephen wanted to ride Nicias back to the Herondale manor, where, after a very long, hot shower, he would crawl into a huge bed and let his mother mollycoddle him in the way his father couldn't stand. Perhaps, after a long sleep, Stephen would wake up 16 again, back in a time when the pressures of being an adult were a far flung dream.

A mosquito buzzed at Stephen's ear, causing him to jump and thrash. When his eyes were accustomed to the brightness of midday, he saw that some time had passed. Stephen stood up, left the cemetery, and mounted Nicias for the short ride into town.

Stephen boarded Nicias at a small stable down the street from Stephen's house. Once Stephen got to the stable, he fed and gave water to the horse. Then, Stephen discovered brambles in her tail, so he groomed her, ears to feet, and sprayed her off so that her black hair gleamed. Then, he turned her out in a paddock with several other horses and watched as she went to roll in a puddle of dried mud. Stephen shook his head and turned around, nearly slamming into Luke.

"Where have you been?" Luke asked. "Amatis is worried sick."

"I was at Valentine's," Stephen mumbled. "She knew where I was, when I would be back… you're the one who's worried sick."

"I'm not worried sick," Luke said.

"You came looking for me, didn't you?" Stephen asked. Luke shoved his hands into his pockets and kicked at the ground. "Luke, I had no idea... I'm flattered." Luke glanced up, quickly. "I didn't know you felt so strongly for me. You've touched me, Lucian."

"I don't…" Luke began.

"Don't deny it, darling. I can see it all over your face," Stephen said. Luke's jaw dropped. Stephen smiled and pushed past him, heading back into the barn to clean up his supplies.

"So did you make it, or not?" Luke asked. He caught up with Stephen.

"Of course I made it," Stephen said. "Did you ever doubt me?" Luke shrugged.

"So you did the scavenger hunt?" he asked.

Stephen stopped walking. He took a deep breath and turned around slowly. "What do you mean, scavenger hunt?"

"For the Circle Initiation? Valentine had me go looking for something. It was a bit of a challenge. I was out all night, alone… but it wasn't difficult. More about the journey than the destination, I guess," Luke said. He shrugged. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Stephen said. "What did Michael have to do?"

"Michael? Valentine told him to climb to the top of a tree just to see if he would do it. Weird, I know," Luke said. "What did he make you do?"

Stephen remembered last night, when Jocelyn was talking to him and saying the craziest things but making perfect sense. Stephen could tell Luke what happened, but Luke would never believe him, and besides, he swore not to tell.

"There was a thing at the bottom of the lake. I had to retrieve it," Stephen said. "I need to get home. Amatis is probably wondering where I am. I'll see you around."

"Right. I'll see you around," Luke said. Stephen turned around, heading for the exit. "Oh, Stephen?" Stephen spun around quickly. "Welcome to the Circle." Stephen nodded, gave Luke a smile, and hurried for home.

* * *

><p>When Stephen unlocked the front door of the canal house and opened the door, he found Amatis napping on the couch. She was dressed in one of his white button up shirts, and nothing else. There was a book lying on the floor which must have fallen from her fingers. The book was made of green leather adorned with gold leaf. It was The Green Book, a powerful spell book written by warlocks several hundred years before. Only three copies existed in the world. Stephen shouldn't have even owned a copy, but somehow, it remained in the Herondale family. Valentine would have killed for the book.<p>

Stephen picked the book up off the floor and locked it into a cedar chest, praying Amatis would never ask where the book went.

"Where the hell have you been?" Amatis asked. Stephen turned to see her sitting up on the couch. "It's nearly… late afternoon." Stephen felt at a complete loss for words. So many things happened since he left the house the day before. There were so many things he couldn't talk about.

"I made it," Stephen said. He crossed the living room, knelt before her, and pulled the amulet out from beneath his shirt. "I'm in."

"You're in!" Amatis exclaimed. "I knew you would make it! I'm so proud of you!" She placed her hands on his cheeks as she kissed him. Stephen laid his hands on her thighs and kissed back, moving his tongue against hers.

"I missed you last night. I love you so much," Stephen mumbled. He moved his hands up higher slipped them beneath the hem of her shirt, no, his shirt she was filling out quite nicely. He found the waist band of her panties and tugged on it, then, thought better of it. Stephen stood up, and then moved his hands beneath Amatis's thighs. He lifted her from the couch.

"Stephen! What are you… I just want to talk…"

Stephen kissed her again, then carried her up the narrow stairway to their bedroom. He lay her down on their bed and kissed her once more.

"Stay here. Don't move. I'll be right back," Stephen said. He hurried into the bathroom, stripped naked and took the fastest shower of his life.

Amatis was still on the bed when Stephen walked back in. He tossed his towel on the floor, and leapt onto the bed. He started unbuttoning her shirt, then gave up and pulled it over her head. Stephen kissed her neck, licked across her collar bones, down to her collarbones and breasts. He gave equal attention to them before kissing down the center of her stomach.

Amatis's body seemed to have blossomed since the last time he saw her this way. Suddenly, her hips seemed wider and her breasts were bigger. There were curves where there were none before.

"Why do you want me so badly?" Amatis asked as Stephen ran his fingers down the inside of her right thigh, causing her to open her legs for him.

"Can't I just want you?" Stephen asked. He kissed her lips again as he lightly caressed her breasts. Amatis's eyes flickered closed as she blushed. Stephen licked the tight skin between her hips, and moved his head lower, prepared to kiss her in the place she loved to be kissed.

"Stephen, no," Amatis said. "Come up here."

"I want," Stephen mumbled. "I want you, Amatis." He was feeling desperate now, but was unsure of what he was so desperate for. He wanted to push himself inside of Amatis and to feel her body move with his. Nothing awful could happen when they were making love. Stephen wouldn't have to think about the sins of the night before. Amatis could help him to forget.

"I know you want," Amatis said. Stephen sucked hard on her neck as he ran his hands across her breasts. His body felt painfully ablaze, as if one wrong touch from Amatis would send him over the edge. "Stephen, what is this?"

Stephen snapped open his eyes to see Amatis holding his left hand. The healing runes did their work, and even Celine did her best, but there was still a long, thin scar running down his forearm, wrist to elbow.

"It's nothing," Stephen said.

"Nothing?" Amatis asked. "Your wrist was slit open and it's nothing? What the hell happened last night, Stephen?"

"I'm in the Circle," Stephen said. He kissed her lips. "I did what I had to do. I'm in."

"Who did this to you? What did you have to do to get into the Circle? What happened, Stephen? If someone harmed you…"

"I can't talk about it," Stephen said. "I swore by the Angel. Last night never happened." Last night was last night. It was necessary to forget all of last night, otherwise, Stephen was unsure if he could live with himself. "I can't tell you, Amatis. I wish I could…" He was lying.

"You never kept secrets from me before," Amatis said, "Why are you now?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Please review! Please? Reviews tell me you're at least reading and appreciating my work, and you are, right? Here. I'll even give you a teaser to the next chapter:<strong>

"I need to talk to you," Stephen said. He pulled Magnus into another room and closed the door. "What are you doing in Idris?"


	4. Chapter 4: The Law

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews from the last chapter. It would be nice to know if this story is being read and enjoyed. I know this story is being read, but I like knowing that I am writing for more than a faceless mass of people. The occasional bit of encouragement would be nice, you know. Thanks to my faithful readers (you know who you are) who, in my darkest nights, give me a reason to write.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: The Law<strong>

Following Stephen's initiation, nothing much happened in Stephen and Amatis's life. Luke found them a crib and helped move it into the tiny room they designated as a nursery. Amatis's morning sickness passed, and she met with a midwife who said that everything was progressing perfectly with the pregnancy. Planning for the baby became a huge part of their lives. Amatis didn't ask about joining the Circle, and while Stephen continued to wear his Circle amulet, he kept it beneath his shirt and never talked about it.

Valentine did write to Stephen to inform him of a position that became available at the Gard, which was the governing center of Idris. Stephen interviewed for the job and got it. He began to spend twelve hour shifts four nights a week in the prison cells beneath the Gard, watching over the werewolves, vampires, warlocks, faeries, and Shadowhunters who disobeyed either the Law or the Accords.

On Stephen's second night of work he walked into the locker room to find that Michael had taken a job at the prison as well, doing the same thing as Stephen. At the Academy, Michael finished close to first in class ranking when it came to languages and had interviewed for a position at the new Institute being built in Amsterdam. Working in a prison seemed so unlike what anyone expected for Michael, but Stephen didn't question it. A job was a job.

One of Stephen's duties was to feed the prison's occupants. This meant he was to bring rare steaks to those affected with lycanthropy, normal, human food to the warlocks and Shadowhunters, some sort of sweet smelling concoction to the one faerie prisoner, and fresh blood to the vampires. Stephen always volunteered to feed the vampires. He considered it penance for his sins, even more so when he gave a vampire some blood and they feasted on it as if they hadn't eaten since the last time Stephen gave them blood.

Stephen didn't ask how the prison was able to serve hot, fresh blood every night. The same laws that were followed outside the prison were followed inside as well, but were interpreted differently. Most of the guards hated their jobs, and more over, hated the prison's population of Downworlders. Valentine's attitude that the Downworlders deserved to die was a way of life in the dark underbelly of the Gard. While Stephen and Michael were the only Circle members employed by the Gard, given the chance, all of the guards would have been loyal followers of Valentine's.

Most of the Shadowhunters imprisoned in the Gard wouldn't look at Stephen. When he came by with a meal, they would sit in their cells with their back to the door, staring at the wall, no doubt debating the fine line between right and wrong. Stephen couldn't help but wonder how many of them violated the Accords not because they had to, but because their lives depended on it. Regardless, he knew that if anyone found out what transpired that night with Valentine, it could just as easily be him waiting for a trial that would never come.

One bright spot in the dim light of the Gard was Michael, who met Stephen before every shift and brought food his wife made. They spent most of their shifts working together, sometimes talking the entire time, and sometimes, working in silence. Feelings bloomed between them which weren't romantic in nature, but were caring and affectionate. They came from similar backgrounds and shared the same lifestyle at the Academy, though now, Michael was living in a manor house while Stephen's father cut him off from the family's wealth. Stephen was too proud to admit that sometimes, it was hard to put enough food on the table for he and Amatis. Michael figured this out quickly and always brought more than enough food to share, though they never discussed it. In time, Stephen viewed Michael as something he never had before: a friend.

One evening Stephen came home from working 24 hours straight to find Amatis sitting in the living room, going through some mail. Stephen fell onto the couch beside her, still dressed in his guard uniform, and laid his head on Amatis's shoulder. He felt feverish and had spent half of his shift with his head in Michael's lap as they watched over a wing of werewolves. He feared he might be getting sick, but could have been exhausted.

"We have been invited to you parent's house for brunch this weekend," Amatis said. "Abigail is coming to town." Stephen rolled his eyes. Abigail, his older sister, was 20 and had gotten married last year to a man named Jeremiah Carstairs. Abigail was bearable but there was something about her husband that Stephen didn't like, though he couldn't figure out what. "Also, this was addressed to you." Amatis handed Stephen a crisp white envelope sealed with a wax "M."

"Who is it from?" Stephen asked. Amatis shrugged. Stephen opened the envelope and read over the enclosed document. "It's an invitation. Michael's son is being christened. Valentine is hosting a party."

"Does this mean I actually get to meet the members of the top secret society my husband has become a part of?" Amatis asked. "Oh, what should I wear?" She jumped off the couch, clapping her hands. "Tell me, should I go casual, or formal? What do they think of red?"

"Amatis, it's not funny," Stephen said. "This is serious business."

"How serious?" Amatis asked. Stephen shrugged and looked away. Amatis spent the last few weeks trying to pry secrets out of Stephen, but there were none he could give up. Wearing the amulet made him paranoid of being discovered, however, he couldn't bring himself to take it off. For the first time in his entire life, Stephen felt like he belonged to something that might make a difference.

"It's serious," Stephen said.

"I don't like what the Circle has done to you. To us," Amatis said. "You won't talk-"

"There's nothing to say!" Stephen exclaimed.

Ever since the day Stephen came home freshly initiated into the Circle, this was how things had been. Amatis asked Stephen something and one way or another they fought. Before, there was never anything to fight about. Now, there was the Circle, and the baby, and their house, which was once the right size but was now too small. One wrong word had the power to ignite a screaming fight between them. Fighting wasn't the only thing coming between them, either.

"Tell me what happened to you that night," Amatis said. "We're either slamming the headboard off the wall, or you won't even let me touch you. You hate yourself for something, I just know it."

"I don't hate myself!" Stephen exclaimed. "There's nothing to make me hate myself." He pictured the vampire gasping until he killed it, and Celine, half naked, on top of him. "There's nothing, Amatis. Nothing."

"Why won't you look at me?" Amatis asked. "You used to look me in the eye, no matter how awful your thoughts were. Now…"

"You're being dramatic," Stephen mumbled.

"Talk to me. Tell me things, the way you did before," Amatis said. "I feel like I've lost you." She touched him on the wrist, close to his scar, and Stephen jerked his hand away.

"I can't talk about it!" Stephen cried. "I don't know when I can. I don't know if I want to talk about it. I don't know, Amatis. I just don't know." He buried his face in his hands and felt tears fill his eyes, because he was just so tired of everything.

"What don't you know?" Amatis asked.

"What's going to happen next?" Stephen whispered.

* * *

><p>A few days later, Stephen rode out of town with Amatis. They were having brunch with his parents and would spend the day with them before going to Fairchild Manor for the christening party that evening.<p>

"Are we going to tell your parents about the baby?" Amatis asked.

"It's a bit hard to hide, no?" Stephen asked. Amatis shook her head, barely able to hide her emotions. Stephen closed his eyes and shook his head. The night before, he woke up from a nightmare depicting his initiation, only, in the dream, he was the vampire, and Valentine was the one leaning over him with a dagger in his hands. Stephen woke up from the dream and fell out of bed, biting the knuckles on his hand to keep from either crying or screaming. He was downstairs on the couch reading when Amatis woke up several hours later.

Stephen told himself he had nothing to blame her for, that she didn't know what happened, and it was wrong to punish her for everything, but he couldn't help but be short with her.

"Fine, then, we won't-"

"I'm sorry," Stephen said. "We'll tell them." He reached over, took Amatis's hand, and held it for the rest of the ride.

Soon, a sprawling house came into view. Stephen was certain Will must have been compensating for something when he had the Herondale manor house built. The structure was only two stories tall, but was long, expansive, and filled with windows. There were two turrets at either end of the house, which made it look like a small castle.

"Home sweet home," Stephen remarked. He and Amatis left their horses in the hands of a stable boy and went to the house to find the front door open. They walked through to a sitting room and found a small collection of people drinking mimosas despite it being just past nine in the morning. Marcus, Stephen's father was there, with his wife, Imogen. His sister, Abigail, was sitting on a love seat with his husband, Jeremiah. A man and a woman with their backs to the door. Everyone was laughing except for Marcus; Marcus never laughed.

"Stephen!" The woman exclaimed. She leapt up from the couch and hurried over. Stephen barely had time to recognize her before she slammed into his body.

"Aunt Tessa, what are you doing here?" Stephen asked. He felt ten times happier just knowing she was there. Aunt Tessa always came to visit with plenty of new stories about the things she had seen and the places she had visited. When Stephen was much younger, he would sit at her feet and listen, open mouthed, as she recounted her adventures as a shape shifting warlock. He once even harbored a crush on her that was confusing, to say the least. Allegedly, Aunt Tessa was well known for confusing Herondale boys.

"Magnus and I ran into your sister and brother in law in Beijing. We thought we would stop by," Tessa said. The man on the couch turned to Stephen. Magnus Bane spent much of his life traveling the world with Tessa. They each barely looked a day over 19, despite Tessa being 130 and Magnus being, at last count, somewhere just over 700.

"It's been a little while," Magnus said. He looked Stephen up and down with a faraway look in his eyes. Magnus always looked at Stephen that way, like instead of just seeing Stephen; he was seeing every Herondale he ever came in contact with. Magnus stood up and embraced Stephen, then Amatis as well.

"Magnus was just telling us how busy he's been, traveling the world for work," Marcus said. Stephen regarded his father, who had yet to make a move to greet his only son. Marcus looked like every Herondale who came before him. His eyes were a deep blue, which clashed sharply with his jet black hair. He was wide and foreboding, like Valentine, and unlike Stephen. Stephen took after his mother's side of the family, with his fair complexion, light hair, and slim build.

"Yes. I've been very busy, but I've seen some wonderful things," Magnus said.

"Stephen's been busy," Amatis said. "He got a job up at the Gard, working with the prisoners." Marcus looked Stephen up and down. A vein stuck out in his neck for a moment as he clenched his jaw.

"A job at the Gard. Working with the prisoners," Marcus said. "I'm impressed." Marcus was anything but impressed. he expected his son to take a job running an Institute the way he had. "And how did you get such a posh position, Stephen? Did you know someone?" Stephen blushed.

"That's enough," Imogen said. "A job is a job, and it's a good, noble job if it serves the Cause."

"Of course, Imogen, you're right. We should be proud he has a job at all. He only graduated four months ago. It's about time he sought employment," Marcus said. "I'm so proud of you, my son."

"No you're not," Stephen mumbled. Marcus glared at Stephen for the briefest of seconds. Stephen stepped backwards and bumped into Amatis.

"Your sister has brought us wonderful news, so she says," Marcus said. "Abigail, darling?"

Abigail grinned and grabbed her husband's hand.

"We're having a baby!" She exclaimed.

Stephen attempted to fake his enthusiasm, but found it unnecessary. Imogen and Marcus were suddenly screaming and laughing. Magnus was clapping and talking excitedly with Aunt Tessa. Abigail began to cry as Imogen yelled over and over "I just knew! I just knew you were pregnant at the wedding!"

Stephen pulled Amatis back into the hallway, not that anyone noticed. He brushed her hair off her shoulders, and then nuzzled his lips against her neck, holding her against him, feeling like she was the only thing good about the day.

* * *

><p>They sat down to brunch soon after. The conversation focused around when Abigail was due (March!) what she was having (a girl!) what she wanted to name her (Meredith or Mary!). It was obvious that the prospect of a daughter bothered Jeremiah, as observed with his silence regarding the subject. All children born to the Nephilim were considered purposeful, however, sons were preferred.<p>

Stephen spent half the meal with his hand on Amatis's stomach, trying to endure the meal as best he could. He didn't bother with announcing that he and Amatis were expecting; Abigail and Jeremiah had already stolen their thunder. Instead, Stephen thought of names, such as Stephen Jr. and Lucas and Meghan and Ruth and Samuel and Samantha. Amatis claimed the baby was beginning to kick, though Stephen couldn't feel it, just yet.

"Stephen and I have a little announcement to make," Amatis said. Stephen nearly choked on his cheese blintz. He grabbed his glass of milk and had a sip. "We're having a baby boy!"

"You're kidding," Imogen said. Amatis stood up and pulled her shirt tight. Abigail barely looked pregnant, but Amatis's stomach was something to be proud of. Stephen felt his mouth fall open.

"A boy?" Stephen asked. "Why didn't you tell me? When did you…?"

"Before," Amatis said. "I went to see one of the Silent Brothers. He told me."

"A boy," Stephen said. He fought back tears. "You're giving me a son?" Stephen laid his hand on her stomach and looked up at her, eyes filled with wonder. She had surprised him, yet again.

"Yes, a son," Amatis said. "A son." Stephen saw Jeremiah cringe, and he decided that he couldn't have loved Amatis any more than he did in this moment.

Everyone immediately asked all of the questions they asked Abigail. Amatis allowed Stephen to answer them and gloat. All the while, Marcus sipped his tea and glared at Stephen. Marcus always stressed that first comes love, then comes marriage, and then, finally, a baby in the baby carriage. Sure, Stephen married Amatis and now she was pregnant, but Marcus would still find fault with their methods.

After the meal, everyone went to relax outside, where the conversation turned to babies once more. Marcus excused himself to smoke a cigar in his office. Stephen didn't smoke and couldn't stand it when anyone did, yet he still sat silently in his chair and waited for an invitation that would never come.

"Dear, can you bring a fresh pitcher of mimosas?" Imogen asked.

"Certainly, darling," Marcus said, and walked inside.

After a few minutes, Magnus leaned over and kissed Tessa on the cheek.

"I'll be back," Magnus said. "I'm just going inside to…" Stephen doubted Magnus was a smoker. Magnus walked inside.

"Why don't you marry him?" Amatis asked.

"Amatis!" Stephen exclaimed. The idea of his Aunt Tessa being with anyone was despairing, let alone Magnus who seemed not to be the marrying type.

"Eternity is a long time to spend with one person," Tessa said. "Besides, he doesn't feel that way for me, the way a husband should feel for his wife. We had our times, of course, but… eternity is a very long time."

"I'm getting some water," Stephen said. The girls had launched into another conversation, ignoring him. He slipped inside, walked through the house, and was waiting outside the bathroom when Magnus walked out.

"I need to talk to you," Stephen said. He pulled Magnus into another room and closed the door. "What are you doing in Idris?"

"Visiting your family. Working," Magnus said. "Why?"

"You can't be here. You need to leave," Stephen said.

Stephen's family was always kind to Magnus and Tessa, the same way Magnus and Tessa were kind to the Herondales. Over a hundred years ago, Magnus did a favor for Will, though what the favor was had never been revealed. Now, the Herondale family was forever in Magnus's debt. Besides that, Magnus and Tessa were practically family.

"Will- I mean, Stephen, are you in some sort of trouble?" Magnus asked.

Stephen looked away. He had yet to define what he was in, beyond the Circle. "There's this group of people called the Circle. Their leader wants to wipe out all Downworlders, warlocks included. He'll stop at nothing. You need to leave Idris before he has a reason…"

"Stephen," Magnus said. He rested his hands on Stephen's shoulders. "Is there something going on I need to know about?"

"I can't tell you," Stephen said. "If you value your life, you'll leave Idris, and never come back. Go away. Go to New York. That's a big city, right?"

"Stephen, I-" Magnus looked confused. He was so unassuming, like all Downworlders were. They didn't perceive a threat from a race of people sworn to protect the world.

"Go," Stephen said. Magnus nodded and left the room.

Marcus found Stephen not long after. Stephen wanted to avoid his father but that wasn't possible. No one avoided Marcus Herondale for very long. Stephen was getting a glass of water when Marcus walked in, poured himself a drink and regarded his son for a moment.

"Exciting stuff with Abby, yes?" Stephen asked.

"All children are a blessing," Marcus said. "Even those which are conceived out of wedlock."

"I don't think the conception of my child is any of your business," Stephen snapped. He turned around, feeling bold.

"It's just poor form to welcome a child eight months into a marriage, is all," Marcus said. "It's a bit… obvious. Then again, you have always lacked in self control."

"I'm not sure what you're angry about, father. If you're angry that I had sex before I got married, I don't think it's any of your business. If you hate my wife, just say it to my face," Stephen said.

Marcus looked shocked, which filled Stephen with a feeling of accomplishment. It was obvious in the way that Marcus looked at his daughter in law, like he expected more for Stephen than the daughter of two people who lived in the more poor section of Alicante. Then again, Marcus always expected more for Stephen.

"I don't hate her," Marcus said. "I'm concerned about her, is all."

Stephen knew all of the stories about the Graymark family, all of which were explained to him by Amatis one drunken night she spent the night, against the rules, in his dorm room. Luke and Amatis's father had been crushed to death in a construction accident while working at the Prague Institute in Czech Republic. When their mother heard the news she went mad and took off, abandoning Luke and Amatis when they were 16 and 12, respectively. Ever since then, the Graymark family was regarded warily. Shadowhunters weren't keen to children being left on their own. The Graymark family was condemned as a result.

"I love her," Stephen said. "I don't need your opinion on it." He turned for the door.

"So have you joined the Circle?" Marcus asked. The Circle wasn't a secret, not among the older members of the Clave, anyway.

"I went to a meeting, yes," Stephen said. "There's a lot of good that can come with reform, father. It's interesting to… learn about it."

"There's nothing wrong with learning," Marcus said. "It's just what the Circle represents that bothers me. We've lived for a thousand years with the laws we have. We've survived because of those laws. There's no need to change a good thing." That was the same attitude most everyone had. Shadowhunters believed they had more important things to deal with then themselves.

"So the werewolves are allowed to hunt and the vampires are allowed to scheme against us and the mundanes are allowed to be blissfully ignorant to the work we do to keep them safe, and we're to sit by, mutely, because of what? Outdated laws?" Stephen asked. "This is the 21st century, father!"

"And we are still fighting an old enemy!" Marcus exclaimed. "Evil exists, Stephen. It always has. You cannot fight evil with more evil!"

"Are we to fight it with love?" Stephen asked. "Will love keep the mundanes safe in their beds at night? The law is-"

"The law is the law!" Marcus yelled. "I law is HARD, Stephen, but it is the LAW!"

"Fuck the law," Stephen said. In a flash, Marcus's hand lifted and cracked Stephen across the face. Stephen cried out, making not a manly sort of noise, but the noise a young boy might make. His eyes filled with unwanted tears. Marcus glared a Stephen, no doubt hating him for any number of reasons. "You taught me to stand up for what I believe! This is what I believe! Aren't you proud of me, father?"

"You've done nothing to make me proud of you. Nothing yet, anyway," Marcus said. "Now put yourself back together. We have guests, Stephen." Without another word, Marcus walked outside.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Please review, if you nothing else than to tell me to keep going. Please? Here is a teaser: <strong>

"You aren't the only one who has killed for him," Michael said.


	5. Chapter 5: Parabatai

**Author's Note: Welcome new readers and thank you to those who continue to read! Sorry to post this so soon. I promise, there will be a few days between the chapters, which is why I am posting this now rather than later. Please enjoy this next chapter and please review! Remember, I own none of these characters. Enjoy!**

**Major Author's Note: Remember when I said awful things happen in this story? Awful things happen in this chapter. There is a death.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: Parabatai<strong>

The rest of the afternoon was spent having mindless conversations. Once Stephen came outside, Imogen saw his face and his watery eyes and demanded to know what transpired. Stephen loudly protested that nothing happened, nothing at all, it was just all the dandelions growing that made his eyes itch. The Circle came up anyway, as well as Stephen's feelings towards it. Imogen just rolled her eyes and claimed Stephen was just going through a phase with the "whole Circle business." Sooner or later, he would find his way. Stephen drank half a pitcher of mimosas and passed out with his head in Amatis's lap.

Later on, Stephen and Amatis left the Herondale manor and rode to the Fairchild Manor, which was less than two miles away. When they got there, the party was in full swing. Michael saw Stephen and greeted him with a hug, then introduced Amatis to Michael's wife, Josie, who was holding their son Jonathan. Luke came over and greeted Amatis. This was family; Stephen thought. Everyone was happy to see each other.

The patio door opened and Valentine walked out, carrying two drinks. He gave one to Stephen.

"You look like you need a drink," Valentine said.

"How can you tell?" Stephen asked.

"Luke told me you spent the day at your parent's house," Valentine said. "Your father… doesn't drive you to drink?" Stephen lifted his drink and poured it down his throat, prompting Luke to shake his head and Amatis to distance herself.

"Not my perfect father," Stephen said. Michael and Valentine laughed.

"As you can see, we're missing two of our own," Valentine said. "Maryse gave birth this afternoon to a boy she's named Alexander Gideon. Mother and baby are doing wonderfully. I saw them just a little while ago." Amatis eagerly clapped her hands as Stephen nodded.

"Stephen and I are having a little boy as well," Amatis said. Valentine's eyes got wide for the briefest of seconds.

"A boy?" he asked. "How exciting! Be certain to let Robert know. It's never too soon to start discussing parabatai."

Stephen spent much of his youth courting various boys who were available to be his parabatai, but it was the same as finding a wife. Stephen kissed many girls but had only loved Amatis, in the same way he trained with many boys but never felt for them the way he should feel for a parabatai. Amatis was the only person Stephen wanted to commit his life to.

"Of course, I'll let him know," Stephen said. "Though, picking a parabatai will always remain my son's choice. I don't want to meddle with his future."

"Of course not," Valentine said. "There are hors d'oeuvres over there, and cocktails on that table. Dinner will be ready soon." He patted Stephen on the back and walked over to Jocelyn.

As soon as he was out of ear shot of Valentine, Stephen pulled Amatis over to the cocktail table and mixed a strong drink.

"I wish you wouldn't drink so much," Amatis mumbled. "You spent most of the afternoon sleeping in a drunken stupor while I had to make excuses for you working too much."

"Yes, well, I wish you wouldn't tell everyone we're having a boy," Stephen said.

"It's happy news worth telling," Amatis said.

"Can you just keep things between us?" Stephen mumbled. "You should have told me we were having a boy before we went to my parent's. You should have let me tell Valentine. This is my son. I don't want suggestions on what to do with him." Amatis should have looked shocked, but instead, she appeared resigned. Stephen had been snapping at her this way for three weeks now.

"Fine. You're right, I'm sorry," Amatis said. "I'm going to talk to Jocelyn now." Amatis walked across the patio to where the wives had gravitated. Jocelyn was talking with Josie. Celine stood close by, wearing a dark blue dress. Her hair hung down, long and curling in the humid air. She looked barely interested in what Jocelyn and Josie were saying but she was smiling and nodding, pretending to care. Celine caught Stephen's eye and gave him a polite smile. Stephen blushed and looked away. He was no stranger to responding to a girl's touch, but the girl he responded to had always been Amatis. Stephen felt wrong, knowing something had happened between he and Celine, however minor that something was.

Luke was leaning against the porch railing, sipping a drink and observing the party. Stephen sidled up beside Luke, already feeling the calming effects of the alcohol in his body. Nothing looked as awful as it was once he had a few drinks, which is why Stephen tried not to drink. Alcohol allowed Stephen to dull the sharp edges of many of life's difficult times.

"Stephen," Luke mumbled. He glanced down at Stephen, frowned, and looked back over to the girls. If he heard the exchange between Stephen and Amatis, he didn't say anything. Luke lifted his glass and had a sip as his eyes studied the women at the far end of the patio. Stephen had a feeling Luke's mind was on the leggy blond in the blue dress.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Stephen whispered.

"She's beautiful, and taken, and pregnant, and…" Luke began. "She's everything, Stephen. I don't expect you to understand." Jocelyn looked over at Luke for a brief second, then turned back to the conversation.

"Well, if you loved her, why did you let her go?" Stephen asked.

"I didn't let her go," Luke mumbled, "She was already gone."

Stephen nodded. That seemed like a plausible explanation. Luke let Jocelyn go because she loved another man more than he. History was littered with stories about men whose affections were never returned. If Luke could sleep at night with that explanation, so be it.

"No, I think you let her go," Stephen said. "I think you put her on a pedestal and decided that you weren't worthy of her love. Then, when you least expected it, your parabatai swooped in and stole your girl."

"By the Angel!" Luke cried, grabbing Stephen by the collar of his shirt. Luke pulled his fist back, but Valentine was there suddenly, restraining Luke as Michael got between him and Stephen. Luke struggled, but Valentine put his arms around Luke's chest and his mouth close to Luke's ear.

"Temper, Lucian. Temper," Valentine whispered, "He's just a boy."

"I'm a bit more than just a boy," Stephen said. Luke cursed and struggled to free himself from Valentine's grip. Valentine smiled, though Luke couldn't see it.

"Now, Lucian, you remember what it was like being young and hot headed, don't you?" Valentine asked. "He's just seeing what you'll let him get away with." Luke pulled away from Valentine and stomped off the patio, headed for the lake. "That's right, walk it off, then come back for dinner." Luke yelled something and strode off into the shadows. "Stephen. I don't condone brawling at my parties."

"I was out of line, I'm sorry. It won't happen again," Stephen said.

"I have my doubts, judging by your performances at the Academy," Valentine said. He smiled again. Stephen spent his time at the Academy fighting anyone who wanted to fight. Valentine had been watching, after all. "Come and eat, son."

They went to a table and ate. Stephen sat beside Amatis, with Celine on his other side. Amatis didn't speak about the fight, in fact, she didn't say anything to Stephen, though no one picked up on the tension. Luke came back midway through the meal and ignored most everyone. Valentine made certain to ask Michael and Stephen about their jobs, so much so, there was little room for any other conversation.

After dinner there was dessert, then, more time for socializing. Amatis spent most of the evening with Jocelyn, Celine, and Josie. Valentine lit a bonfire on the banks of the lake and Stephen went down there with Luke and Michael. He apologized to Luke for what happened between them, though Luke brushed off the apology with a shrug and only said Stephen was right. He had waited too long, Luke said, and now, he was happy Jocelyn was with a good man she loved. Luke acted like nothing bothered him, though Stephen had his doubts.

After a little while, Celine went skinny dipping and pulled Luke in after her. Stephen sat by the fire and watched as Celine and Luke swam together as they had before, only now, they had more moonlight to play with. They dove beneath the water and broke the smooth surface again and again. There was nothing sexual about it, not this time. They were having fun together.

Luke called to Michael and Stephen, demanding they come swimming, but Stephen insisted that the water was to cold. Michael called him all sorts of humiliating names before going to dive into the water. He didn't swim for very long before climbing back out and drying himself beside the fire. Stephen couldn't help but look over the smooth, hard lines of Michael's body as he stood nude in the fire light. Michael was just put together better than Stephen. His muscles were more defined, his skin more tan and freckled than Stephen's was. Michael noted Stephen's attention and took his time pulling on a pair of pants.

"When do we work together next?" Michael mumbled.

"Tuesday night," Stephen said. Michael walked around the fire and sat beside Stephen on the wet grass. He smelled of lake water and smoke, mixed with a light tinge of alcohol.

"It was very cold," Michael said. He adopted the same position Stephen was sitting in, by resting his weight on his hands braced behind his hips, only, Michael laid his left hand over Stephen's hand.

"Not before dinner," Stephen sang, softly. Michael mumbled something unintelligible with a cheeky grin on his face, and then glanced up at the patio briefly. He lifted Stephen's hand and placed it over his own heart. Stephen felt smooth skin beneath his fingers, as well as a thin, inch long scar.

Michael released Stephen's hand, so Stephen guided Michael's fingers to the scar at his wrist and shivered as Michael ran his fingers over the still sensitive skin.

"I saw how you are with the vampires," Michael whispered. "You don't want to torture them the way the other guards do. You treat them like I treat the werewolves, like you did something awful to their kind and feel guilty about it."

"I can't talk about it," Stephen said. "I swore, Michael. That night never happened…" Though it had. Stephen saw it in his dreams every night.

Michael leaned close so that his breath felt warm against Stephen's cheek. "You aren't the only one who has killed for him," Michael whispered. Stephen turned to Michael, close enough to only see Michael's brown eyes gazing back at him. In that moment in time, something shifted in Stephen heart as he fell for Michael not as a lover, but as something just as close. Parabatai.

"Michael!" Valentine called. Michael sat back, quickly, putting some distance between he and Stephen. They both looked up to the porch, guilty as school boys, to see Valentine looking down on them. He was smirking. "Michael, I need to talk to you."

"Be safe," Stephen whispered. Michael shrugged, collected his clothing, and walked up to the patio. He disappeared inside with Valentine.

After a few minutes, Stephen walked up to the patio to find the girls entrenched in a conversation. Jocelyn had her hands lying on her stomach as she breathed in and out slowly and tried to keep up with the conversation. Celine smiled at him, as did Amatis. He returned their smiles, uneasily, and fixed himself another drink.

Michael walked out of the house, grabbed Stephen by the arm, and pulled him inside when the girls weren't looking. They found Valentine in the kitchen, holding a glass of something.

"Drink this. You're drunk and I want you sober," Valentine said. Stephen didn't want to be sober but Valentine looked tense, so Stephen downed the drink. Then Michael grabbed Stephen's hand and pulled him through the kitchen, down a hallway, and to a set of stairs they descended with Valentine. By the time Stephen was in the basement, he was feeling sober. Valentine led them into a room and turned on the light to reveal a small office with a desk and three chairs. Valentine sat behind the desk. Michael dropped into one chair, so Stephen sat in the other.

"You two seem to have hit it off quite nicely," Valentine said. Stephen blushed. "I guess there isn't a whole lot to do for 12 hours in a prison besides… getting to know one another."

"We were roommates at the Academy," Michael said. "You know how that goes." Valentine smiled and chuckled.

"Do I ever," he said. Valentine looked Stephen and Michael over. There was a devious look in his eye, which Stephen had last seen when Valentine mentioned that Celine was beautiful and his sister. "You're parabatai now."

"But Robert-" Michael said.

"Not officially. But you're a matched team of warriors, bound together in the name of one cause. Parabatai," Valentine said. Michael nodded slowly. The institution of parabatai was sacred. One couldn't just find another parabatai when the mood struck, though this union was more symbolic in nature. However, Michael felt the same thing Stephen did out by the fire. They each killed for Valentine. They were bound together, no matter what.

"As you wish, Valentine," Michael said.

"You can let go of my hand now, Parabatai," Stephen said. Michael released his hand.

"We're down here because you have each proven to me that you'll stop at nothing to accomplish what I ask of you," Valentine said. "You have scars that bind you together, and secrets to keep. You may think that what I am about to ask of you is wrong, that it shouldn't be done, but you're loyal. You won't disappoint me. I will ask you to do something, and you will do it. Right?" Valentine asked. Stephen and Michael nodded. "Good. I want you to steal the Mortal Cup."

"I beg your pardon?" Stephen asked.

"You want us to steal the Mortal Cup?" Michael said. "Valentine, you've got to be joking. There's no way…" Valentine folded his hands and regarded Stephen and Michael.

The Mortal Cup was kept at the Accords Hall. The Angel Raziel had given the Mortal Cup and Sword to Jonathan Shadowhunter, who used the Instruments to make the Shadowhunters. The Mortal Cup was kept in a shrine in the Accords Hall, surrounded by candles. It was said that any couple unable to bear children need only touch the cup, and would then be able to conceive a child. Stephen saw the Cup only twice in his entire life.

Each of the two known Mortal Instruments were considered sacred artifacts by the Nephilim. The Silent Brothers guarded the Mortal Sword, while the Cup was guarded 24 hours a day by two guards. Stephen knew this information because one night in the locker room at the prison two other guards were talking about how nice it would be to guard the Cup, rather than a bunch of Downworlders. Guarding the Cup was a simple job, in fact, the guard that was discussing it said that half the time, the men who's duty it was to watch the Cup were asleep on the job. None of this information would have been easy to come by, had Stephen and Michael not already worked with guards.

"How are we going to steal the Mortal Cup?" Michael asked.

"We're going to walk in and take it," Stephen said. "No one expects anyone to take it, so we will."

"It will teach everyone a lesson," Valentine said. He rubbed his hands together, the smirk returning to his face. "None of us are safe, not with our world the way it is."

"Why do you want the Cup?" Michael asked.

"That's information on a need to know basis," Valentine said. "Right now, Michael, you don't need to know."

* * *

><p>They went back upstairs not long after and melted into the party as if they never left. Michael went over to Josie and took their son from her. He kissed the child on the forehead, then nuzzled his nose against his cheek, no doubt assuring himself that not everything had changed in the time that he had been in the basement.<p>

Stephen poured himself a glass of water and looked over everyone. Everything that had gone on that day felt broken into reality and fantasy. Stephen's fight with Marcus felt vivid and real, as did the minor altercation with Luke. The conversation Stephen had with Michael and Valentine, where it was proposed that they steal the Mortal Cup, felt like a dream. Stephen pinched he back of his hand and felt it, though he wasn't sure what was real anymore.

"Stephen," Amatis said. "Stephen!" Stephen looked down to see Amatis beside him. She had a hand on her lower stomach. "I'm not feeling well. Let's go home."

"Let's," Stephen said. He didn't bother saying goodbye to anyone, he only led Amatis through the house and outside, where they prepared their horses and headed for home.

* * *

><p>Midway through the ride home, Amatis became violently ill. When they got back to town, Stephen put their horses away and carried Amatis home. He was terrified for her, and didn't sleep for a long while after they lay down together.<p>

When Stephen did finally sleep, he dreamt of a boy with dark hair and light eyes, who did one thing wrong and reaped the consequences of it tenfold. His family threw him out. He moved to London where he met a boy he came to care about, but the boy was ill and would almost die many times. There was a girl the boy could not love, and though he did eventually marry, he never did love.

"Stephen!" Amatis cried. Stephen opened his eyes and sat up in bed to find that dawn was still some way off.

"What is it?" Stephen asked. He turned on the light beside their bed and looked over to see Amatis pale as the pillow she laid her head on.

"I'm bleeding," Amatis said.

Stephen leapt from the bed and pulled the covers down. The sheets on their bed were stained with bright red blood. As he watched, Amatis's body became rigid with pain. She clenched her teeth to keep from screaming to loud. She didn't have to say a word, Stephen knew, instinctively, what labor looked like.

The next few minutes were a nightmare. Amatis was in pain and was hemorrhaging blood. Stephen dressed quickly and ran down the street to the home of a woman who was known to deliver babies and brought her back to the house. By then, Amatis's water had broken.

Less than an hour later, Stephen was holding Amatis's hand tightly as she delivered their son. The midwife wrapped the tiny baby in a blanket and said something, Stephen wasn't sure. She thrust the baby into Stephen's hands.

"Save my wife," Stephen said. "Please, save my wife." He fell into a chair, still clutching the baby in his hands. There was movement beneath the blanket, and when Stephen pulled the blanket aside, he saw that the baby was no bigger than his hand. It's little mouth and eyes were open and it looked up at Stephen, meeting his eyes. The baby took air in again and again, gasping in a way the vampire had, the night Stephen held it's fate in his hands. "Breathe. Just breathe. Please."

The baby, like the vampire, was too far gone. It gasped several more times, then expired minutes after it's birth, still in Stephen's hands. Stephen held his son close to his chest and cried.

* * *

><p>The sun was just rising when the midwife finally left Stephen with grim news. The baby wasn't to blame for the miscarriage. It was Amatis's body who rejected the pregnancy. She lost a lot of blood, and more over, could no longer have children.<p>

Stephen was sitting on the couch when Luke showed up. Stephen had sent him a letter (he couldn't recall what it said) but it didn't matter: Luke was there. Luke could handle this situation far better than Stephen could. Luke was Amatis's brother, Stephen was just the man who got her pregnant.

"What happened?" Luke asked. Stephen shook his head. "How are you? How's Amatis?"

"It's not really happening, is it?" Stephen asked. "Everything was fine. We were having a baby boy. Amatis saw her midwife just last week. Everything was fine. Now…" Nothing would be fine, not for a while. There was suddenly a hole in his life that Stephen had no idea how to fill.

Luke sat down on the couch beside Stephen and put an arm around his shoulders. "Where's the baby?" Luke said.

"Upstairs in the bathroom. I couldn't… I can't," Stephen said. He was certain his nightmares would be haunted by the sight of his dying son for many years to come. "Can you sit with Amatis for a little while? I have to… I need to go somewhere."

"Where?" Luke asked.

"I have to go to my parent's house. I have to ask them… to open the mausoleum," Stephen said. His eyes filled with tears as the dream became real. "I have to go, Luke. I really have to get out of here!"

"Go," Luke said.

Not long after, Stephen climbed onto Nicias's back and lit out for the Herondale manor. When he got there he left his horse to graze in the front yard and walked into the house. Marcus and Imogen were sitting down to breakfast when Stephen strode in "like he owned the place" as his father would put it. Stephen dropped into a chair across from his father and plucked a grape from the fruit centerpiece. He enjoyed his mother's shocked expression, because shock was better than pity, and there was time for pity later.

"We lost the baby," Stephen said. It was the first time he saw his father feel sorry for him.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please review? Please? Here is a teaser to the next chapter: <strong>

"What did you do?" Stephen cried. "What did you do to him?"


	6. Chapter 6: Purpose

**Author's Note: Welcome new readers! Please enjoy this story, and please review as well. Please? I'm doing my best to write something worthy of your time, can you at least let me know if it's worthy? Thank you. Please enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5: Purpose<strong>

At sunrise the next morning, Stephen dressed in his white mourning clothes and walked to the necropolis outside the city, where he met with a chaplain who would perform the funeral. Stephen had attended many funerals before, both in the necropolis and down in the Silent City. Death was no stranger Shadowhunters. Even premature births such as this weren't a secret. The midwife said there was no way to explain why it happened, just sometimes, it did.

The day before was a blur after Stephen came back from the Herondale manor. Someone showed up with food Stephen refused to eat. Amatis didn't have the energy to get out of bed, so Stephen cleaned around her and spent half the time laying in bed with her, crying. Luke was there, always, though he stayed downstairs and was there for anything Stephen and Amatis needed.

Now, the baby lay in a blanket on a stone alter that was meant for someone much bigger than a newborn baby. He was still wrapped in a blue blanket, which one of the first baby things Amatis ever brought. Amatis was far too sick to come to the funeral, so Stephen was left to face the affair on his own. He didn't expect his parents to show up and didn't want them to.

"Shall we begin?" The chaplain asked.

"Please," Stephen replied. The chaplain opened a book and cleared his throat just as a tall man walked into the graveyard, late as usual. "Wait." He stepped away from the altar and met Luke halfway across the graveyard. Luke was dressed in his white mourning clothes as well and carried a bouquet of white roses. His skin was marked with red runes for mourning. Stephen's eyes filled with hot, painful tears, because the baby was hardly a person at all, just a baby born far too soon, but Luke was treating its death with utmost importance. "I don't deserve you," Stephen said. Luke wrapped his arms around Stephen, pulling him close for a hug.

"You deserve me," Luke said. "How are you? How's Amatis?" Stephen shook his head. "It will get better, eventually." Stephen rolled his eyes. Heartbreak such as this didn't go away overnight.

Luke put an arm around Stephen's shoulders and walked with him back to the altar. He laid a rose beside the baby, then placed the rest of the bouquet on the steps of the mausoleum. For a moment, Luke lay a hand on the blanket and bowed his head, then looked back up.

The chaplain cleared his throat and looked up at the sky. The sky started overcast and foggy, but the sun burned off the wet chill to the air as summer gave them one more warm day.

"Are you ready?" Luke asked. Stephen looked down at the tiny blue bundle and shook his head. He felt the way he had when Amatis told him she was pregnant, that she was carrying his child. The thought was foreign at first. Stephen planned for the baby to live. This was not in his plans.

"No, no, I'm not ready," Stephen said. "Tell me this isn't happening."

"It is," Luke said.

"I can't. Just… do it. I'll be over here," Stephen said. He pulled away from Luke and started for the front gates of the cemetery, stopping short when he saw a black carriage stop in front of the gates. A man dressed in white climbed out, followed by a woman in a long white dress. They walked into the cemetery, hand in hand, looking regal, somehow. Stephen looked at his father, who would not meet his eyes, then at his mother. "You didn't have to come. You shouldn't be here."

"How could we not attend our grandson's funeral?" Imogen asked. "Come, Stephen." She put a hand out and Stephen took it. They walked back over to Luke and the chaplain. The chaplain cleared his throat and opened a book.

"We are gathered here today to lay to rest baby boy Herondale…"

"Isaiah," Stephen said. "It means, "God is my salvation." The chaplain nodded and Imogen made a quiet gasp.

"We are gathered here today to lay to rest Isaiah, who left this earth far too soon," the chaplain said. "When things such as this happen, we must ask ourselves, why? But asking why is to question the will of the Angel, and that we must not do. We must have faith that Raziel has a plan for each and every one of us, from the smallest baby to the oldest adult. Each of us has a purpose."

The funeral proceeded from there. Before Stephen knew it, he was sobbing painfully on his knees as the bundle burned. When it was all said and done, the chaplain scooped the ashes into an impossibly small urn and gave them to another man, who carried them into the Herondale mausoleum with the family following. There, more prayers were offered before the urn was sealed into a recess in the wall. Then, it was over.

Stephen sat down on the bench facing Isaiah's niche. He pulled his knees to his chest and stared at the blank piece of marble that would mark his son's resting place. Sometime soon, the marble would be engraved with the baby's name. It wouldn't say "aged 78 years" the way William Francis Herondale Junior's did, or "aged 34 years" the way Calvin James Herondale's plaque said, because Isaiah Phineas Herondale didn't get to live even a day. Isaiah's plaque would only read the day of his birth and death.

"Stephen?" Imogen asked. She touched Stephen on the arm. He pulled away, quickly, partially because he was startled and partially because he didn't want his mother's touch. "How about we have some breakfast?" Stephen shook his head.

"Coffee?" Luke asked.

"I want to be alone," Stephen said. Imogen gave Marcus a look. Marcus was hovering near the back of the mausoleum, over near the resting place of his father, Jonathan. They were all in there, Stephen realized. Imogen, and Marcus, and Stephen, and even Luke, though he wasn't a Herondale, as well as all of the dead relatives slid conveniently into slots into the wall, all labeled with words and fake flowers and runes. There were entirely too many Herondales in one place, sooner or later the dead would come back to life to fight with the living. The thought made Stephen want to laugh. He cried instead.

"We'll be in town at that café you like," Luke said.

"The one Amatis and I went on our first date to?" Stephen asked.

"That one," Luke said. He touched Stephen on the shoulder, squeezing it as an afterthought, then followed Imogen out. Stephen's stomach ached with hunger, but he could not move from the mausoleum. He wondered what he might do when left completely alone, and was curious to find out.

"We'll catch up," Marcus said. Stephen looked over at his father, who now blocked the only exit from the tomb. The last place Stephen wanted to be was sitting in a cramped mausoleum with his father. Imogen nodded and walked off with Luke. Marcus cleared his throat and sat on the bench beside Stephen.

"You must think I'm weak, crying like this over a child," Stephen said. "There must have been something wrong with my son. Perhaps, I'm to blame."

"You aren't to blame," Marcus said. He rested a hand on Stephen's knee. "These things happen."

"They just happen?" Stephen asked. "There's no karma to it? No rhyme or reason? It just happens?"

"Yes. It just happens," Marcus replied. Stephen nodded, not entirely believing his father. There had to be a reason for this. Amatis was healthy. The baby was healthy. Now… "Your mother and I lost a child, between you and Abigail. Sometimes there's nothing to be done but to try again. So try again."

"We can't," Stephen said. "Isaiah is the only child I'll ever see. So I'll blame myself all I want."

* * *

><p>They went to the café, where Stephen ate in silence. Luke left midway through the meal to take food to Amatis, leaving Stephen with his parents. Marcus and Imogen headed for home right after the meal, claiming that they would come back after a few days to visit with Amatis and Stephen. When they were finally gone, Stephen returned to the mausoleum and found the front step nearly covered with flowers. He walked inside to see a candle burning beside the baby's niche. Stephen fell onto the bench and looked up at it.<p>

"We sent flowers," A voice said. Stephen looked up to see Valentine standing at the door to the mausoleum. "Luke told me what happened. I'm sorry to hear."

"Sometimes these things happen," Stephen said, monotone. "It's wrong of us to ask why, to question the will of Raziel." Valentine walked in and sat beside Stephen.

"There's a reason for everything," Valentine said. He slipped his hand into Stephen's, twining their fingers together. Stephen might have pulled his hand away, if not for the fact that now, he was craving comforting touch on an almost primal level. "Luke told me what happened, how the baby came so fast, Amatis's body couldn't handle it. Perhaps, Amatis just isn't strong enough to bear your children."

That ugly thought had entered Stephen's mind over breakfast, but he pushed it away. Nephilim babies were born every day. There was nothing extraordinary about his son, not this early on, anyway. Strong Shadowhunters were trained into greatness, not born already remarkable.

"That's not true," Stephen said. "Amatis is stronger than me."

"Of course she is," Valentine said.

"No, she is. She's the one who gave birth. I was just the one that sat by and cried inconsolably. I'm the one sitting in a mausoleum wiping my nose with my mother's handkerchief, because I don't know how I can go home, and how I can face my wife," Stephen said.

"This can either break you, or make you stronger, that's up to you," Valentine said. "If you want this experience to make you stronger, you've got to let it. I know it hurts right now. I know you're asking yourself, why did this happen? There's a purpose for everything."

They were silent for a little while. Stephen was exhausted. He wanted to leave, wanted to go home and crawl into bed with Amatis, and spend the day mourning their loss. He wanted to get on his horse and ride far from here, and perhaps, never come back. He wanted his grief to rise up like a wave and drown him.

"How about a drink?" Valentine asked. Stephen had his head on Valentine's shoulder as they watched the candle flicker and cast light onto the marble walls around them.

"I shouldn't drink," Stephen said.

"You can't begrudge yourself one. You lost a child yesterday. You need to grieve," Valentine said. "Come along, Stephen."

"I guess one wouldn't hurt," Stephen said.

He stood up and walked with Valentine into town, where they stopped at the first pub, and each ordered drinks. Stephen finished his drink quickly, so Valentine slid his drink over to Stephen and ordered another one.

"So are you going to try again?" Valentine asked. Stephen had his elbows on the bar. Two drinks weren't enough to get him drunk, though he hadn't eaten much. Valentine ordered food to pick at, but Stephen wasn't hungry.

"Try again?" Stephen asked. "We can't try again! She can't have anymore. Isaiah was it. Our only child. My only son." Stephen lifted his drink and had a sip, shocked to see that it was full of sweet liquid.

"Maybe there was something wrong with him," Valentine said. "Maybe Amatis rejected him because the baby was sick."

"I don't want to talk about this," Stephen mumbled. He looked down at the floor to see it spin. "My father lost a child the same way."

"A boy?" Valentine asked. Stephen shrugged. "I bet it was a boy. That's why your father treats you the way he does. You're his prized possession."

"I'm his embarrassment," Stephen mumbled. "All my sisters went off to be successful. But I don't want that life. I don't want his life. This is what I want. Is that so wrong to want… this?"

"You want a bar fly existence?" Valentine asked. His mouth curved up into the smile he always wore, whenever his own thoughts amused him.

"I want… a life I don't have to answer for. A life I can enjoy," Stephen said. "I want a life of purpose."

"Is that why you joined the Circle?" Valentine asked.

"I want to make a difference," Stephen said. "You're the only person who wants to change things. Be the change you wish to see, right? That's what Ghandi said. You want to see change, and so do I."

"I wouldn't use a great man's words to explain my methods," Valentine said with a laugh. "Ghandi taught peace and nonviolence, but peace doesn't get us anywhere sometimes. Was Rome conquered with peace? Were the Huns defeated with peace? No. I want to change the world, yes, but I want to change it on my own terms. My methods are not peaceful, but they will be effective."

"You have a plan to change things, which is more than anyone else has," Stephen said.

"I'll drink to that," Valentine said with a wink.

* * *

><p>Hours later, Stephen and Valentine moved to a booth at the back of the pub. Stephen sat beside Valentine as they talked about the most random things. They had bypassed what was appropriate long before, and through Stephen's alcohol addled mind, he saw all that Jocelyn saw in Valentine. He was so strong, and charismatic. Stephen couldn't help but wonder what it might be like to be with Valentine, and to feel so protected. He understood why Hodge looked at Valentine the way he did, like Valentine was his whole world. Stephen felt all sorts of things for Valentine, but he could not deny he was slowly falling in love with him, not in a romantic way, but in the desire to follow Valentine to the ends of the earth.<p>

"Stephen, what the fuck are you doing?" A voice said. Stephen turned to find Luke standing beside their booth. He was dressed in black hunting gear, rather than white mourning clothes. Some time must have passed, though Stephen was unsure of how much. "I've been looking all over for you. Amatis is worried sick."

"No, darling, you're worried sick," Stephen said. "Come sit with us. Come sit. Come." Stephen giggled. Luke turned his eyes to Valentine.

"What did you do to him?" Luke demanded.

"We had some drinks. Some conversation," Valentine said.

"Jealous?" Stephen asked. Luke shook his head and rolled his eyes. He crossed his arms across his chest. "Oh, so jealous!"

"Stephen, you're fucked up and I'm taking you home," Luke said.

"So is Valentine," Stephen said. He laid his head on Valentine's shoulder. "Valentine and me, we're both fucked up. Come have a drink, Lucian. We want you to drink with us." Valentine tensed beside Stephen.

"He's sober," Luke said. Stephen sat up and looked at the many empty cups littering the table before him. Valentine had no empty cups in front of him, in fact, there was only a half full glass of water next to his hand. "What the hell is going on?"

"You and I have patrol tonight. I can't drink. I just brought Stephen here. We got to talking," Valentine said. "He only had a few, Luke."

"Only a few?" Luke asked. "This looks like more than a few. He's trashed, and he's underage."

"You can't begrudge the boy a drink on this of all days," Valentine said. Luke stared at Valentine with a look Stephen never saw before. Luke's eyes narrowed as his right fist clenched. "Temper, Lucian." Luke reached down, grabbed Stephen by the arm and jerked him out of the booth. Stephen fell against him.

"This is a family matter," Luke snapped. "You had no right doing this to him! His wife is home, sick, and you made her worry about where her husband has been. What Stephen needs is his family now, not you filling his body with drinks and his head with your mindless brainwashing. He lost a son yesterday, Valentine. You have no idea what he wants!"

It had been so easy to forget everything while drinking. This was why Stephen didn't drink, because he forgot his troubles only to find them hiding in the last place he thought to look.

"Get him home and meet me at midnight in Angel Square," Valentine said easily, "Those werewolves aren't going to kill themselves."

Luke cursed loudly. Stephens's stomach flipped as his head spun. He pushed Luke away and staggered out the back entrance of the pub, into an alley between buildings. He slammed into a wall and started retching, one hand clinging to the wall to keep him up right as he vomited everything he ate and drank. He felt one of Luke's hands on his waist. The other hand was tangled in his hair, holding it back. Never before had he drank this much. Never before had he ever felt so sick and heartbroken.

When that was over, Stephen fell onto the ground and cried until Luke drug him home. Amatis was awake when Luke carried Stephen through the front door, though Stephen didn't greet her. He only crawled up the steps, pitifully, and fell face down onto the bathroom floor beside the toilet. The last person he saw was Luke leaning over him, saying something, perhaps, goodbye.

"Stay safe," Stephen whispered, and passed out cold.

* * *

><p>The next thing Stephen heard was Amatis screaming the way she had as she gave birth to their son. Her cry was agonized; so much so, Stephen leapt to his feet and staggered down the steps. Amatis was standing at the front door, one hand covering her mouth as she sobbed, hysterical. This was the moment all Nephilim wives dreaded, but Stephen was alive. No one would have to tell Amatis of his death, because Stephen was still alive. Outside, the sun was just coming up, framing the silhouette of a large man dressed in black battle dress.<p>

"I'm so sorry," Valentine said. "He just…"

Stephen screamed at the same time he pulled his fist back and slammed it into the center of Valentine's face. Valentine staggered backwards down the front steps of the canal house and Stephen followed. Amatis was half fainted against the front door, crying wretchedly. Stephen pulled Valentine down into the street.

"What did you do to him?" Stephen cried.

"I didn't do anything!" Valentine exclaimed. His nose was bleeding hard, covering the half dried blood on his shirt with new, fresh blood. "It was a werewolf, Stephen. Luke and I went to talk to a few of them, is all. It got out of hand. I got away, but Luke was bitten, badly… he's…."

"What did you DO?" Stephen screamed. "This is your fault, Valentine. You're to blame."

"I didn't do anything to him!" Valentine yelled. "It was an accident. A stupid, senseless, accident. I swear, Stephen, by the Angel, I didn't do anything to him!"

"You fucking liar!" Stephen cried. "You got me drunk. You got me out of the way! You… What did you do to him!" Valentine grabbed Stephen's hands as he fell onto the ground before Stephen. He was sobbing as though his heart had broken.

"Look," Valentine said. "Look, Stephen." He pulled back the cuff of his shirt to show that the parabatai rune that bound him to Luke was now faded to a scar and rendered inactive. "I lost him, Stephen. I lost Luke."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please review! <strong>

**A note on the teaser: I had a hard time picking out this teaser because a few things happen in the next chapter and pretty much every line would explain what's happening. So this is all I can give you, for now:**

"You joined the Circle because you wanted to be a part of something, right? This is something. You and I- we could go down in history together. Years from now, people could remember us for this. I can't do it alone, Stephen. I need your help. Help me lead the Circle to glory."


	7. Chapter 7: Loyalty

**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter. Please, keep it up. I do appreciate the encouragement. Enjoy this chapter!  
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><p><strong>Chapter 7: Loyalty<strong>

The Circle gathered the next night for Luke's memorial. There was no formal funeral, as there was no body to burn. Luke's death was only noted in the archives in the Silent City, then, everyone was expected to put it behind them, however, Valentine thought it was best, for closure, that the Circle get together to say their goodbyes.

"Stephen?" Jocelyn asked. Stephen looked up. It was a little while before the funeral was to start. Stephen had arrived an hour before, unable to sit with Amatis any longer. Amatis was absolutely destroyed emotionally and could barely climb out of bed. Stephen knew it was his duty to be at her side, but he felt like his grief was slowly crushing him, and Amatis's inescapable anguish was only hastening the process. He left early for the memorial and spent the afternoon riding aimlessly around the countryside.

Now, he was sitting in the kitchen beside a window, watching as Robert and Michael built a huge bon fire beside the lake. Maryse was out on the patio, catching up with some of the other Circle wives as she tended to her newborn son, Alec. Stephen had yet to greet her. He feared seeing a tiny baby wrapped in a blue blanket. He wasn't sure who he was grieving more: Isaiah, who never lived, or Luke, who lived life to the fullest.

"Yes?" Stephen asked.

"Have some water," Jocelyn said. She pressed a glass of cold water in Stephen's hand. He drank it all, then set the glass down and looked at Jocelyn. She was dressed in a gray dress, as none of her mourning clothes fit. She was greatly swollen with her pregnancy and Stephen felt bad for looking her over, though he couldn't look away, either.

"How far along are you?" Stephen asked.

"Seven months," Jocelyn replied. "I kept the pregnancy hidden for a little while. I wanted to be the one to tell Luke, in private. It just seemed more proper that way. Now…"

"You were close with him," Stephen said.

"We grew up together," Jocelyn said. "He was practically my brother. We-"

"We should begin," Valentine said, walking in, followed by Hodge. They were dressed in white and each wore red runes.

Valentine looked as though he lost the only person he ever loved. His eyes were bloodshot red, with dark circles beneath them. His voice sounded hoarse. Stephen was unsure of his ability to forgive Valentine for Luke's death. Yes, it could have been an accident, as Valentine insisted, though Stephen was suspicious.

"Stephen," Valentine said. He put a hand out that feebly shook. "Come here, brother, I want to greet you."

Stephen stood up and walked over to Valentine, who put his arms around Stephen. Valentine kissed Stephen on the cheek and lay a hand on Stephen's lower back.

"Thank you for being here. I know you and Luke were friends, and you were very angry and upset about his death," Valentine said. "It's like we discussed before. Sometimes, these things, they just happen. We must not question the will of the Angel."

"We all have a purpose," Stephen said.

"We all have a purpose," Valentine echoed. He lightly slapped Stephen's cheeks and kissed him again. "Let us begin."

They filed out of the house with Stephen and Celine bringing up the rear. Close to thirty people had gathered around the bonfire. Some of the people Stephen recognized, and some were unfamiliar. Many of Alicante's best known citizens were in the Circle. There was Aksel Pangborn, who sat on the council in Idris, and his brothers Emil and Anson. Anson was employed with the Gard; Stephen ran into him once or twice, though he never expected any members of the Pangborn family to be involved with the Circle.

Jocelyn went to stand with Valentine. Stephen felt someone touch his hand and looked over to see Michael beside him. Celine stood on Stephen's other side.

The memorial began with Valentine giving a moving eulogy. Then, he invited everyone to offer a memory they had of Luke. Valentine spoke of the day he swore his parabatai vow to Luke, while Jocelyn shook her head and didn't want to share. Stephen had good memories of Luke, but it didn't feel proper to share them. Many of these people had known Luke for years, while Stephen only met him in March and married his sister in June. Now it was September. Six months didn't feel like long enough to know someone, though Stephen had felt close to Luke.

"Luke introduced me to my wife," Michael said. "He kept telling me there was this girl I had to meet. He put the whole first date together. My wife fell in love with me that night… so I owe Luke a lot. He was a great man. He was loyal, and always in a good mood… he was an amazing friend." Everyone nodded. Stephen wondered if anyone would dispute the fact that Luke was a great, loyal man and amazing friend.

"Stephen?" Valentine asked. "Is there something you would like to share with the Circle?" Jocelyn looked at Stephen. She was crying, not obviously, but there were tears in her eyes. Stephen had to remind himself, again, that Luke really was gone.

"I just…" Stephen began. His voice cracked. "He was there when I needed him. When I didn't expect him to be there, when I didn't think I deserved him there, he was. And when I married his sister, he trusted me, and believed in me. Luke was…" Celine grabbed Stephen's hand and held it tightly as he started to cry. "Luke was good!"

"He was very good," Valentine said. His voice was soft and soothing, with a tinge of pain. "Celine, darling, do you have something to say about Lucian? Some sort of special memory you have, of just the two of you?"

"No," Celine said. "He was a wonderful man. So sweet and kind to everyone."

"But surely you and he shared some sort of… special moment?" Valentine asked. "You can tell us, darling. We're all family here."

"There's nothing to say," Celine said. "Maryse?"

When the sharing was done, Valentine stoked the fire so that it burned hot and brought out an amulet.

"This belonged to Lucian. He gave it to me before we went out that awful night," Valentine said. "Tonight begins a new chapter for the Circle. We did not lose Lucian, he was taken from us by a savage pack of werewolves. We will no longer sit by idly and allow the Downworlders their run of the world. This is our world! We have been sworn to protect it! We will fight harder! We will avenge our fallen brother's death! We will kill anything that stands in our way!"

Valentine threw the amulet into the fire. Stephen saw only a flash of silver before the flames consumed the metal. Then Luke was gone, forever.

* * *

><p>Food was served soon after, though Stephen didn't feel like eating. He instead took a tall glass of dark beer and walked off the patio, planning to walk around the lake and perhaps put his mind back together. The night was cool and crisp, with a nip of frost in the air. Stephen passed the still simmering fire. Robert and Michael stood beside it, talking in quiet tones.<p>

There was a language parabatai spoke in, Stephen noticed. They only had to say half the words ordinary people would in conversation. Even now, Michael had his hands in his pockets, looking away from Robert, but Robert was nodding slowly and taking careful drags on a cigarette. Michael was standing close to Robert, so there was barely any space between them, and Robert was not only allowing it, but welcoming it. Stephen wished he could communicate that way with someone. He wished he had allowed another man to know him that intimately. Michael might have, but Stephen knew he would never be as close to him as Robert was.

"Stephen!" Celine called. Michael stepped away from Robert and sipped his glass of beer. Walls went up between them where there were none moments before.

"What?" Stephen asked, turning around. Celine was walking over to him, holding the hem of her dress up off the wet grass.

"May I walk with you?" Celine asked. "I need some air. It's such a nice night." It wasn't a nice night, but Stephen didn't point that out. The night before last, Luke died, tonight, they burned his amulet.

"I'm not carrying you," Stephen said. "Or doing anything else with you." He added the second part under his breath. Celine took the hint and caught up, while keeping a respectable distance between them.

They didn't speak until they reached the other side of the lake, where little conversation could be heard from the patio, and those on the patio blended into shadows. Celine looked so ethereal in the moonlight. She could have been a ghost rather than a young girl. She wore her hair down, loose, with barely any make up on. She was trying to pass for innocent, Stephen knew. She was trying to make Stephen think that the night of his initiation never happened.

Stephen stopped walking, grabbed Celine by the arm, and spun her around so that she faced him. She was gasped in shock and tried to pull away, but Stephen held her tightly and enjoyed the look of fear in her eyes.

"So did you have a special memory of Lucian?" Stephen asked. "Something special that happened, just between the two of you? Did you have sex with him, Celine?"

Celine gasped as her eyes filled with tears. She dropped the hem of her dress and punched Stephen, hard, in the shoulder.

"What a thing to ask!" Celine cried. "Did I have sex with him? You're asking me this, when we just laid his memory to rest? Have you no respect for the dead?"

"Respect has nothing to do with it, doll," Stephen said. "You're the one who tried seducing me. You're the one who came to my room, barely dressed, and offered yourself to me. To the victor go the spoils, remember? Besides, if Luke did have sex with you, I doubt he would mind it becoming public knowledge. It's not like Valentine didn't already know."

"It was never to become public knowledge!" Celine exclaimed. "Who cares if I did? He was a hell of a lot more man than you will ever be. At least he was loyal to the woman he loved. You're married and you kissed back."

Stephen gaped at her as she and continued walking around the lake. Celine was nothing like she was before. There was fire and passion in her she never showed to anyone. She wasn't as passive as she normally appeared to be and she was crying, like she really did care about Luke. Stephen started after her, and then stopped, but there was some small part of him that couldn't handle it when a girl cried… not even a girl who tried to tempt him into destroying his marriage.

"Celine, wait," Stephen said. He caught up with her and grabbed her by the elbow. Celine spun around, fist flying, though Stephen avoided it. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"I could have loved him," Celine said, starting to cry harder. "He could have loved me, you know. Now, he never will."

There was a small fire pit on this side of the lake as well, with several stones around it for benches. Celine sat down, so Stephen sat beside her. She was still shaking with sobs and Stephen put an arm round her, drawing her close.

"You could have loved him?" Stephen asked.

"We had a thing… before," Celine replied. "I've known him forever. He and Valentine met when they were twelve and were always training together. I was always Valentine's little sister, until suddenly I was no longer Valentine's little sister, but just his sister."

"I beg your pardon?" Stephen asked.

"I grew up. I grew breasts and pretty hair and everything you boys look for in girls," Celine said. Stephen looked down and noted that yes, Celine did have an ample set of breasts. He saw them once, I fact, when she had been skinny dipping. Had that really been only three weeks ago?

"Yes, breasts," Stephen said.

"You're hopeless, Herondale," Celine said. "Luke noticed. And he continued to notice, and soon, I saw that he was noticing… then one day Valentine went upstairs to take a shower and Luke and I kissed in the kitchen. I was fifteen by then, and Luke was twenty. Nothing should have happened, but…" Celine shrugged. "We started sneaking around together, though Valentine knew. He encouraged it. We had sex not long after. Luke was my first. We started talking about getting married when I turned eighteen, but I knew it would never happen. He could have loved me, but he didn't."

"He loved Jocelyn," Stephen realized.

"Luke said he loved me but he wasn't in love with me. He was in love with Jocelyn and always had been. Even when Jocelyn and Valentine got married, he still loved her, so I told him I would never love a man who still loved another woman," Celine said. "We broke up, swore nothing ever happened between us… we became better friends than we ever were lovers."

"But you love him?" Stephen asked.

"Luke's gone," Celine said. She turned to Stephen, her eyes full of tears which shimmered in the moonlight. "I'll never love him, ever again. I'm sorry for the night I came to your room. It's just so easy to want to reach out and grab something to stop your fall."

Stephen knew how that felt. He had been in a free fall for the past three weeks, with Luke and Isaiah's death being only ledges to hit on the way down. The world was spinning and Stephen couldn't decide if he wanted to stop or keep spinning. Then there was Celine, who knew, somehow, what Stephen was feeling.

"I know," Stephen whispered, "I know how you feel."

Celine's golden eyes looked translucent in the moonlight. Her hair was nearly silver, her skin pale as the last vampire Stephen ever saw. She smelled of orange blossoms, warm cotton, and life. Stephen took a shuddering breath, fell forward, and kissed her.

"Stephen!" Celine exclaimed. Her hands came up, resting on his shoulders, not pulling him closer but not pushing him away either. She exhaled hot air against his throat and kissed him over his pulse as he pushed a few curls off her face. Stephen ended up on his knees before her, his hands on her waist as her warm lips brushed against his. Maybe this was a mistake, maybe it wasn't, and Stephen did not care. He kissed her again, crushing her lips against his, feeling pain and pleasure and heat and her, Celine, a woman who had just as many secrets as he did.

Stephen dropped a hand down and moved it beneath Celine's dress, running his fingers up her shin, along the back of her knee, up to her lower thigh. Celine bit Stephen's lower lip and tugged on his hair just the slightest bit. Stephen groaned as he felt himself begin to stiffen. Celine spread her knees apart and gave Stephen a small smile.

"I want you," Stephen whispered. "Here, now. Please." He looked into her eyes, then kissed her jaw line softly as he moved his other hand beneath her dress.

"You're married," Celine said. She pushed him away and stood up, fixing her dress. "I won't love a man who's in love with another woman."

"Who said anything about love?" Stephen asked.

Celine stomped away, leaving Stephen all alone in the moon light.

* * *

><p>The number of Circle members had diminished by the time Stephen got back to the patio. Celine was talking to Jocelyn in the corner with Maryse. She was feeding the baby a bottle as Maryse looked on. Michael was gone and Valentine was noticeably absent, as was Hodge.<p>

Robert was hovering on the outside of the group, leaning against a railing with a drink in his hand. He looked Stephen up and down, then smirked and sipped his drink. Stephen looked down to see that the knees of his white pants were stained with dirt and ash. Robert nodded and raised his glass to Stephen, but the gesture wasn't intended as congratulatory. Cheating on one's grieving, heartbroken wife wasn't exactly accepted in the Shadowhunter culture.

Stephen felt his cheeks flush red. He scanned the crowd looking for Luke, and remembered that he wasn't there, not any more, anyway. Luke should have been there to hold the group together and be the person everyone felt comfortable talking to. Luke should have been there.

"May I talk to you, Stephen?" Valentine asked. He'd walked up behind Stephen and laid his hands on Stephen's shoulders.

"Of course," Stephen said. He followed Valentine into the kitchen, where Valentine pulled out two shot glasses and a bottle of dark liquor. He went to the ice box and got a lime which he sectioned with a knife as Stephen stood by, silently questioning his purpose for being in the kitchen.

"The mundanes call it tequila," Valentine said. "Would you like a shot?"

"Not if you're pouring it," Stephen said.

"So you are still sore about the other night," Valentine said.

"Which one?" Stephen asked. He didn't mean to be insubordinate. There were just so many other nights Stephen couldn't forget about. A look crossed Valentine's face, the closest he would ever come to looking guilty.

"The night… Lucian died," Valentine said. "I'm sorry about it. I thought you knew I wasn't drinking, and thank the Angel I didn't drink, or I could have been killed as well."

"Angel forbid," Stephen said. "I don't believe that you didn't harm him."

"Why would I do anything to compromise his life? He was my parabatai, Stephen. Do you have any idea how much it hurts when one parabatai loses the other? It hurts, physically, mentally… I was bound to him. Our souls were linked together, and when he died, I felt us rip in half. Why would I want that to happen? Lucian was everything to me. Everything. I don't expect you to understand." Valentine poured himself a shot of tequila and drank it.

"You think I harmed him the way I harmed you and harmed Michael. I didn't," Valentine continued. "You hate me for what I did to you, I know it. I can see it in your eyes, feel it in the way you are around me. You hate me. I don't care. I had my reasons for throwing you to the vampires. You're all talk, Herondale. I know you. You try to act like you want to make a difference but at the end of the day, you're too much of a pussy to follow through. You worry about what your mother will say. You worry about your father. You think before you act. You never just act. So I forced you to, and I don't give two fucks whether or not you hate me. I made you do what you would have never done otherwise. You should thank me."

"You violated the Accords," Stephen said.

"No, you violated the Accords. You're either with me, or against me, Stephen," Valentine said. "What's it going to be?" Stephen clenched his jaw shut and stared down at the empty shot glasses. Valentine poured them each a shot and laid two limes beside their glasses.

"You told me you wanted to make something of yourself. You want to make a difference. So some Downworlders died in the name of progress? What are a few Downworlders to us, Stephen? They're hellish creatures. Abominations. Heaven has no use for those of evil origin. They have no feelings. They aren't human. You did nothing wrong that night," Valentine said. "Repeat after me, son. You did nothing wrong."

"I did nothing wrong," Stephen said.

"You did nothing wrong," Valentine said. He lifted his shot glass and drank it, as did Stephen. The alcohol was hot and burned its way down Stephen's throat. He set his glass down, picked up the lime slice, and bit it, feeling the tartness of it cool the burn. They looked outside, at those from the Circle who remained. "They're lost without Lucian, you know. You're lost without him."

"He was a good man," Stephen said.

"Like you, I saw great things for him. I was grooming him for leadership, to be my second in command, but Luke wasn't made to be a leader, he was happy to follow. Even in school, and when we were training together, Luke allowed me to have the glory, always. He was happy in my shadow. I don't need another shadow. I don't need another doe eyed follower, I have enough. What I need is a lieutenant, and I would like it to be you."

Stephen imagined that Valentine would have wanted him to spend this moment fawning over him and insisting he wasn't worthy of such a position, but Stephen had been on his knees once already tonight, and besides, Valentine wasn't worthy of that degree of admiration.

"What do I have to kill now?" Stephen asked.

"Nothing. Christ, Stephen, must you always be so morose? I'm offering you a chance at greatness," Valentine said. "You joined the Circle because you wanted to be a part of something, right? This is something. You and I- we could go down in history together. Years from now, people could remember us for this. I can't do it alone, Stephen. I need your help. Help me lead the Circle to glory."

Valentine refilled their shot glasses. Stephen looked at his glass and felt Valentine beside him, offering him glory and greatness for nothing. He had lost so much, perhaps, now it was time to gain something back.

"I'm with you," Stephen said. He tossed back the shot of tequila and dropped his glass onto the counter as his body seemed to burn from the inside out.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Thanks for reading. Please review. I would like to know what you think, if you have any questions… so feel free… please? I just want to know this is at least being read and perhaps enjoyed. Please? Here's a teaser at least one of you should love: <strong>

"I know what happened that night," Amatis said. "Celine told me."


	8. Chapter 8: Spoils

**Author's Note: Welcome to the new chapter of this story! Thanks for the reviews. It would be nice to hear from more of you. I would love to read your stories as well but it's hard for me to do that when I have no idea who is reading this story so please, make yourselves known to me. I'm thrilled you've taken the time to read my story, and I would love to thank you personally. Please keep in mind, I own NONE of these characters. Refer to Chapter 1 if you need clarification. **

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><p><strong>Chapter 8: Spoils<strong>

Just before Stephen departed the Fairchild Manor, Valentine took him aside and said that he and Michael were to steal the Mortal Cup the following night. Stephen was exhausted, emotionally, and physically. He couldn't bear the idea of stealing the Cup; however, he couldn't imagine not stealing the Cup either. Valentine wanted the Cup, and so Stephen would bring Valentine the Mortal Cup.

The plan was foolishly simple. Stephen was to dress in his guard uniform and meet Michael at the Accords Hall. They would access the Cup close to midnight, when no one else was around, and would claim they wanted to pray, only if asked. Then, if all was still going according to plan, Michael would swipe the cup for a decoy one, and place the actual Mortal Cup in a satchel Stephen would carry. They would leave town and come to the Fairchild Manor, where they would spend the night, so that Amatis and Michael's wife, Josie, would assume they were at work. No one in the Circle knew of the plan, though Stephen had a feeling Robert had an idea of it.

It was half past six in the evening when Stephen stood in the bathroom upstairs in the canal house, fiddling with the brass buttons on his uniform jacket. The day had been spent with Amatis, barely speaking. Stephen's stomach was an empty pit of burning hunger and nerves. Amatis had to know something was going on, but she was too distracted by Luke's death to ask.

"You look nice," Amatis said, walking over to the bathroom door. She was dressed in a set of Stephen's pajamas. The baggy shirt and pants hid her post partum body, which still showed some signs of pregnancy. Her hair hung down in her face, tangled into a rat's nest. Stephen, by comparison, had cut his hair and shaved. There were dark circles under his blue eyes, and his cheekbones were more obvious now, as opposed to a month ago.

"Thank you," Stephen said.

Things felt so strained between them, as if their marriage wasn't prepared for difficult times. Stephen couldn't find the right words to say to his wife. Nothing ever came out right.

"I've been playing things over in my mind," Amatis said. She walked into the bathroom and perched on the lid of the toilet. "About that night, with the party."

"What about?" Stephen asked.

"I think I might have been poisoned," Amatis said. "I got so sick, so fast, and then I lost the baby…" Stephen nodded. "It's just seems suspicious, is all."

"It's not suspicious. It was a party. No one else got poisoned. I didn't get poisoned," Stephen said. He dropped his hands onto the bathroom sink. "There was something wrong with the baby, or, perhaps, you weren't strong enough to carry him. I don't know. You had a miscarriage, Amatis. It happens. Stop looking for a reason why."

"All the books say that most miscarriages occur early in the first trimester, but I was at 20 weeks. The midwife told me, last week, everything was fine," Amatis said. "Then we went to that party, and I lost the baby that night."

"I don't need reminded," Stephen snapped. The awful events of that night were something he might never forget. "Why would someone poison you? Who wouldn't want us to have a child?" Amatis took a few breathes and looked down at the floor. Stephen turned to his wife, no longer wanting to look at himself in the mirror. "Who, Amatis? Who are you accusing of murdering our son?"

"Valentine Morgenstern," Amatis said. Stephen rolled his eyes. "He's never liked me, Stephen. Even before we were together, he expected me to go mad the way my mother did. And I saw how he looked when I told him we were having a boy. He hated the idea of me being the one to have your son. He wanted someone else for you. He poisoned me." Stephen stared at Amatis as though she was speaking in a foreign language.

"Maybe he was right. Maybe you are going mad, the way your mother did," Stephen said. It was an ugly topic to discuss, but Amatis was the one who brought it up. Truth be told, when Stephen heard Amatis's scream upon learning of Luke's death, he wondered if his wife might ever recover from the heartbreak.

Amatis gaped at Stephen. He ignored her gaze and walked into their messy bedroom to sit on the bed and pull his boots on.

"It's suspicious," Amatis said, following. "I've never liked that Circle. In the beginning, Valentine was talking about reform, but now… you went on that Initiation and came back changed. It seems like ever since then, we've had bad luck. Our marriage hasn't been the same. I think you need to leave the Circle."

"No," Stephen said. He couldn't explain it, but in the almost twenty four hours since Valentine asked Stephen to be his second in command, Stephen came to understand why Valentine felt the way he did. Luke had been taken from them by a pack of savage beasts. Was Stephen to sit by, idle, and not want to avenge his friend's death? What good would that be? The werewolves would kill again, and so would the vampires. The warlocks would continue to do their magic, promoting their own brand of evil, and the faeries would still cause problems. The Accords protected the Downworlders, but where was the protection for the Nephilim?

"You really think Valentine is a god, don't you?" Amatis asked. "You think he can do no wrong? He can. Our son is dead and so is my brother and the Circle is to blame."

"You have lost your mind." Stephen finished tying his boots and stood up. "Valentine only wants to see the laws reformed. The Accords are well over a hundred years old. They are of little use in these modern times. Valentine is not a monster or a god; he's merely a man who wants to see change. Now go to bed. I'll be home in the morning unless I get asked to work a double." He gave her one last pitying look and started down the steps.

"I know what happened that night," Amatis said. "Celine told me."

Stephen stopped so fast, he nearly fell down the steps. There were any number of things Celine could have told Amatis. Stephen didn't know Celine well enough to have confidence in her ability to keep secrets. Celine, after all, had nothing to lose.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Stephen said.

"She told me about Valentine bringing you back to the manor. You were covered in blood and bruises and your arm was sliced open and barely healed. Celine cleaned you and dumped holy water down your throat," Amatis said. "Why did she have to dump holy water down your throat, Stephen? Why were you covered in bruises and blood?"

"I can't talk about it," Stephen said. "I swore, Amatis." He turned to her, his eyes pleading. She might have let it go before, but that was when she still believed that there were no secrets between them. "What else did she say to you?"

Amatis smiled and look down on him. "What else is there to say?"

Before, they were on the same page, always. Now, Stephen felt like Amatis was either far ahead of him, or behind him, but no longer with him the way she was before. Their marriage was starting to crumble, quickly, and Stephen couldn't decide whether or not he wanted to fix it.

"I'm late to work," Stephen said. He hurried down the steps and out the front door.

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><p>Stephen took Nicias to a bakery on the edge of town. He stowed the horse in a stable close by, then walked inside the bakery to find it nearly empty at this time in the evening. There was a set of boots sticking out of a booth beside the entrance to the kitchen. Stephen walked back and fell onto a bench beside Michael, who was dressed in his guard uniform as well. The table was littered with plates of pastries and two steaming cups of cocoa. Michael sipped a cup of black coffee.<p>

"Charming place for a first date, darling," Stephen mumbled.

"I didn't want to rush things. Dinner carries with it such high expectations," Michael said. "Have a chocolate croissant, pumpkin." He slid a plate over to Stephen and sighed. Stephen took a bite of the croissant and felt it stick in his throat. He sipped the cocoa instead of continuing with anything solid.

Stephen imagined preparing to steal a significant artifact by hiding in dark corners and reviewing a plan over and over, but this way was better. They could eat pastries and make small talk and pretend that they weren't really going to do what they planned to do.

"Can I ask you a question?" Michael asked. Stephen shrugged. "You come from a good family. The Herondales are upstanding… for the most part. What made you want to join the Circle?"

"Your family is far more upstanding than mine," Stephen said. He picked up an éclair, took a small bite, and mulled his answer over in the time it took to chew. "I spent a year at the Academy taking classes, learning about the world. Nothing much has changed in the thousand years we've been on this earth. There are always the same conflicts, the same resolutions, the same problems. No one has come up to a solution to these problems and so they keep occurring. My great grandfather dealt with the same shit we're dealing with now. There needs to be a change."

"That's why I'm here," Michael said. "Someone has to make things happen. I'm not going to lead a group of people to do that, but I'll follow Valentine. I'm loyal to him, until someone scrapes my bones off the ground and gives me a proper burial. 'Til the end."

Stephen wished he could have Michael's steely resolve and unwavering sense of purpose in Valentine's Circle. Instead, he sat beside Michael, drinking hot chocolate, eating pastries, and doubting his purpose. So many times, he opened his mouth, prepared to tell Michael that this plan wasn't a good idea, that it was insane, that they shouldn't do what they were sent to do, but he couldn't say the words, because his mind was saying that this was right. Valentine needed the Mortal Cup. Stephen needed Valentine to help avenge Luke's death. This was the right thing to do, however wrong it felt.

At a quarter to eleven, Michael paid a hefty bill and walked out of the bakery with Stephen. The city streets were empty at the time of night, save for the occasional drunk Shadowhunter, wandering between pubs. They rode across town to the Accords Hall, which was lit up with witch light and candles.

The front door of the large building was open, as the building was never locked. They tied their horses up and Stephen followed Michael inside to the building's hushed interior.

The first room Stephen and Michael came to was filled with chairs, as well as a large fountain close to the door. The ceiling was entirely made of glass. Stephen looked up to catch a glimpse of the shining demon towers in the middle of the city. He shivered and fell against Michael; Michael put an arm around Stephen's shoulders and patted him lightly on the chest.

They walked down a corridor to a room filled with glowing candles. Two guards stood outside the room, each holding swords and dressed the same as Stephen and Michael. Stephen felt himself start to sweat and grow nauseas. In that moment, he wanted to die.

"We were hoping to see the Cup. My partner wishes to pray for his family," Michael said. He put a hand on Stephen's lower back. Stephen looked up at the guard and nodded quickly.

"My family," Stephen said. The guards looked Michael and Stephen over a beat too long, and then stepped aside, allowing them access to the room. Michael kept his hand on Stephen's back and shoved him into the room.

The Cup sat on an alter at the back of the room. Each of the four walls of the room were covered with stone shelves which, in turn, were covered with tiny, burning candles. Stephen staggered forward and knelt before the Cup, folding his hands in prayer. Michael sighed and got an unlit candle he carried over to Stephen. He knelt beside Stephen.

The Mortal Cup was gold, with a band of rubies around the rim of it. The air around the Cup seemed to throb with currant, as if it might electrocute anyone that would touch it, though no one would. The Mortal Cup wasn't mean to be stolen. This plan was foolish. It would never work.

"For Isaiah," Michael mumbled he lit the candle with a match. Stephen could smell the heavy perfume scent of the candle. The entire room felt humid, the air thick and hard to breath. Stephen thought he might pass out. He rested his head against his hands.

"Angel, forgive me," Stephen whispered. "I've done terrible things." He had taken a world religions class back at the Academy and extensively studied Catholicism. In that religion, a man could confess his sins and pray for forgiveness. The Nephilim could do the same thing, but it was never clear if the Angel forgave, or not.

Michael set the candle down, glanced backwards, then carefully lifted the Mortal Cup and placed a replica of it in its place. He opened up a small satchel Stephen was carrying and slid the Cup inside. Stephen could feel the power of the Cup pulsating close to his body.

"Ready?" Michael whispered. Stephen nodded and climbed to his feet. Michael put an arm around his waist, supporting him, and walked with him out of the room, nodding to the guards, who allowed them past. Stephen waited to be seized, knocked to the ground, and searched. He would be going to prison tonight.

"Gentlemen?" One of the guards asked. Michael stopped, his fingers digging into Stephen's side. He turned around slowly. "Good luck with your family."

It took every last bit of self control Stephen had to calmly walk out of the Accords Hall. Once outside, he willed away the urge to get sick and instead walked with Michael to their horses. Michael was all business, Stephen was falling apart. He was barely able to climb onto his horse, and even then, he barely had the strength to point her towards the far end of Angel Square.

"Let's put it back," Stephen whispered. Michael turned around and looked quickly at Accords Hall, though no one pursued them.

"No," Michael said. He rested a hand on Stephen's thigh, his eyes tense and frightened. "Let's go."

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><p>It was an hour's journey though pitch black countryside to Fairchild Manor. When they were clear of town, Michael heeled his horse into a gallop and Stephen took off in pursuit. The moon was high in the sky, just a small sliver that barely gave off any light. All around them, hidden behind shadows, night creatures screeched and called out as Stephen and Michael thundered past. Stephen imagined vampires tearing him off his horse and biting his neck, killing him, an eye for an eye.<p>

Halfway through the trip it began to rain, soaking clear through Stephen's uniform, all the way to his skin. He started to feel faint; the only thing that kept him conscious was the fear of being thrown off his horse at such a high speed. Finally, there was light in the distance, and Stephen and Michael burst into a clearing to see the Fairchild Manor lit up in front of them.

They stowed their horses in the barn and walked up to the front door, which was unlocked. When they walked inside, Valentine wasn't there to greet them. Instead, Celine was knelt at the bottom of the steps, dressed in a long nightgown, scrubbing blood off the floor.

"Is everything alright?" Michael asked. Celine looked up, smiling and shrugging. She wore no makeup, and looked barely seventeen.

"Jocelyn fell down the steps," Celine said. "She's alright, bruised, of course, but not hurt badly. The fall put her into labor, though. The baby should arrive sometime before dawn. Valentine's with her, but I'm sure he'll be able to step away and see to his house guests."

"Right, of course…" Michael began. He eyed the blood stain on the floor, then regarded Celine's earnest smile.

"Go ahead upstairs and let him know you're here. You'll be staying in your usual rooms. I'll be right up to pour you both hot baths," Celine said. This time, she directed her words to Stephen.

Stephen side stepped the bloodstain and followed Michael upstairs. Michael took the satchel from Stephen, and the minute the Cup was away from Stephen's body, he felt stronger, as if the Cup had been sapping his strength.

That was the last Stephen saw of Michael, that evening, anyway. Stephen went to the room he stayed in before, stripped off his wet clothes, and poured his own piping hot bath. When that was done, he dressed in a brand new pair of pajamas left on the bathroom counter and went into the bedroom, where he crawled into bed and quickly fell asleep.

A little while later, Stephen felt another blanket being tossed onto the bed. There was the scent of orange blossoms in the air, as well as extinguished match and candle wax. Stephen opened his eyes to see Celine standing beside the bed once again, dressed in lacy negligee. He imagined himself telling her he wasn't interested; that he was married, but none of those words left his mouth.

"To the victor go the spoils," Celine whispered.

Stephen grabbed Celine by the wrist and pulled her into the bed. She came willingly, tossing a leg over his hips and settling onto his lower stomach. She leaned down as Stephen closed his eyes, and pressed her lips to his. Stephen's lips parted as he returned her kiss. There was something so glorious about giving in to one's primal desires, throwing caution to the world, saying "fuck it" to the rules of the world. He ran a hand up her back and tangled it into her hair, pulling her closer. Stephen didn't bother asking why Celine was there, he just kissed her hard and passionately, allowing himself to forget about the Mortal Cup and Isaiah and Luke and everything that was wrong with his life.

"Luke was the only other one…" Celine said between kisses, "I thought you would want to know."

Stephen didn't care. His body was throbbing and he felt alive, suddenly, as if he'd been sleep walking for the last three weeks. Stephen slipped his tongue into Celine's mouth and sucked on her lower lip. Celine moaned lustfully and ground her hips against his body, rubbing her warm, sensitive parts against his slowly stiffening cock.

Celine's nightgown was silky soft and felt cool against his body. Stephen pulled the straps down so that her breasts fell free from the fabric. Celine's skin bore no scars of any kind. She wore only a few runes, just the most important, permanent ones. She would never have to worry about seeing battle, as Celine served another purpose.

Stephen slid his hands up her nightgown and pushed it over her head, leaving her in nothing but a silky pair of white boy shorts. Celine pulled Stephen's pants down, tossed them aside, and raked her nails down his chest to his hips. She knelt over him and licked her lips before taking the entire length of Stephen's cock into her mouth. Stephen grabbed her by the hair and arched his back.

"What are you-" Stephen gasped. Celine tucked a strand of her behind her ear and smiled.

"Spoils," she whispered.

The sensation of Celine's mouth on his shaft felt both foreign and familiar. Amatis never relished oral sex, not this way, anyway. Celine enjoyed pleasuring Stephen. She teased her tongue up the underside of his cock as she stroked its slippery length, tight sometimes, loose, other times. Stephen felt himself harden painfully as his lower stomach started to tingle. He closed his eyes as the world began to fade away.

"No," Stephen said. "Not… that… no…"

Celine released him and straddled him once again. Stephen put his hands on her hips, wanting to pull her body against his. He thought about pressing inside of her and feeling nothing between them.

"I need a condom," Stephen said. He blushed and felt himself start to sweat. "Do you have one?" Birth control wasn't normally accepted in the Shadowhunter culture, as it was believed that if one was going to have sex, one should be having sex for the purposes of reproduction. Stephen wasn't planning on reproducing ever again.

"Of course," Celine said. She kissed him once more, then climbed out of bed and walked over to the bathroom. She lost her panties along the way, and the sight of so much unmarked skin caused Stephen to take notice of all of the parts of her body he had yet to explore. Celine returned a moment later with a small square of plastic she presented to Stephen. "Are you sure?"

Stephen looked up at Celine, who gazed down at him. Her lips were swollen, her hair tousled in a sexy way, and she looked as innocent as ever. He wondered what he was to be sure about: the sex, or the fact that he would wear protection. Celine wasn't forcing him into it as she had been before. She was offering him a choice he had to be sure of. Before now, she was just along for the ride, but she stopped at a crossroads and let him make the decisions.

"I'm sure," Stephen said. He pushed Celine onto her back and sat up, kneeling over her body. He brought the condom up to his mouth and tore open the wrapper, and carefully applied the condom to himself. He looked up to see Celine reclined against the pillows on the bed. She placed her hands on his waist, and pulled him close. Stephen closed his eyes, kissed her lips, and pressed into her.

The minute he was inside of her, nothing else mattered. Stephen wondered how something so wrong could feel so right.

Celine arched her back and pulled her knees further apart. Stephen sunk his nails into her right breast, then released it and took her by the hips as he thrust. At her begging, he grabbed the head board of the bed to give himself more leverage. He fucked her hard enough and fast enough to make her nothing more than an unrecognizable blur beneath him, and it was then that he finally achieved the state of numbness he so desired.

When he finally came, his body shook with spasms that traveled over every inch of his skin. Stephen collapsed onto the bed beside Celine, covered in sweat. Sleep came quickly, and the last thing Stephen remembered was Celine pulling the sheet up over them before she curled around his body, rather than Stephen being the one to hold her. She knew what he needed, whether he knew or not. They fell asleep together.

Sometime later, in the middle of the night, Stephen woke up to the sound of a baby screaming.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please review. I really do appreciate you reading, could you please at least make yourselves known to me? I'll take anything: criticism, praise, encouragement… writing is a solitary task and that the very least I want to know that I'm writing for someone. There's no teaser, as the next chapter is pretty short. Thanks for the reviews! <strong>


	9. Chapter 9: Grounds

**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who has signed up for story alerts for this story. I would be really nice to see some reviews for motivation. Please? It would be nice to know this story is at least being enjoyed, hated, or felt uncertain about. **

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><p><strong>Chapter 9: Grounds<strong>

"Do you hear that?" Stephen asked. He sat up in bed, trying to determine where the baby's screams were coming from. The bedroom was pitch black. The wick of the candle which had been lit on the bedside table was now drowning in a puddle of wax so that only a tiny flame remained. Stephen sensed someone beside him, someone warm, soft, and definitely feminine. He wasn't surprised she was still in his bed, in fact, he would have been more shocked if she had left.

"I told you, Jocelyn was in labor. She must have given birth," Celine said. She sat up beside and kissed Stephen on the shoulder, then touched his back with a cool hand. "Go back to sleep." Celine lay down with a sigh, pulling the sheets around her bare chest.

"I'm going into the bathroom. When I come out, I don't want you here," Stephen said. He climbed out of bed, found his pajama pants, and tossed Celine her nightgown.

"Stephen, I thought…"

"What?" Stephen asked. "What did you think? You came in here for one thing, and you got it. Now you can leave." He walked into the bathroom and closed the door. When he walked out a few minutes later, Celine was gone.

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><p>The next time Stephen opened his eyes, he saw Valentine sitting on the side of the bed, holding a tiny blue bundle in his hands. Valentine looked down at Stephen and smiled, then moved the blanket aside to reveal a small baby.<p>

Stephen felt something well up inside of him. He rolled over and gagged, though nothing came up, yet, so he clamped a hand over his mouth and rolled out of bed.

"Get it away from me!" Stephen cried.

"It?" Valentine asked. "Oh, Stephen, he's not your son, he's mine. Come see him. You'll see…" Valentine stood up and came closer.

"Get it away!" Stephen screamed.

"I know you're frightened," Valentine said. His voice was calm and soothing, though Stephen could not feel calm. "I know the last time you saw a baby, it was difficult on you. I'm sorry, I didn't think about that, but you have to face this fear, Stephen. You can't go through life afraid of blue blankets."

"I'm not afraid," Stephen said. He was feeling something far worse than fear. It was as if every part of his body was rejecting the very presence of such a creature.

"Then look at my beautiful son," Valentine said. Stephen shook his head. "I said look at my son, Stephen." Stephen looked down at the baby.

There was no mistaking Valentine's son. The baby's eyes were the same coal black as Valentine's, his hair the same silvery white. His mouth was set into an angry scowl as he stared up at Stephen, already angry at the world. He was nothing like little Alec Lightwood, who only wanted to sip his bottle, then doze lazily in his mother's arms, a peaceful look upon his sweet face. There was nothing peaceful, or good, about this baby.

"Take him away," Stephen whispered. Valentine scowled.

"You're being ridiculous, Stephen. He's just a child," Valentine said. "Put yourself together and come downstairs. I want to have breakfast with my boys." Stephen clenched his jaw as Valentine smirked and started for the door. He stopped before exiting and turned around, a smile on his face. "Aren't you going to congratulate me?"

"For what?" Stephen asked.

Valentine scowled and left the room.

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><p>Stephen did put himself together. After a long, hot shower, he got dressed and walked out of his room just as Michael walked out of his. Michael glanced over at Stephen and then looked away. Stephen was unsure of what to say to Michael. So much had happened the night before. They were bound together with secrets and lies.<p>

"Good morning," Stephen said. Michael nodded and started down the hallway. His shoulders were set rigid, his body all hard lines of tension. "How did you sleep?"

"How did you?" Michael asked. He turned quickly to Stephen, looking into his eyes. "How do you sleep, Stephen? I heard everything. Every moan and thrust and gasp and… you must have something impressive, or she just must be good at faking it."

"I'm sorry," Stephen mumbled, "It just happened."

"How does it just happen?" Michael whispered. He sounded desperate and hurt. "How does sex just happen? You cheated on your wife. I don't care how awful things are between you and Amatis right now, that doesn't give you the right to fuck around! She's your wife!" Michael continued down the hallway, shaking his head angrily.

Last night, it had only been Stephen and Celine, but now Michael knew and Celine would probably tell Valentine and it wouldn't be long before it would get back to Amatis. Last night, it seemed like a good idea. Today, those few blissful minutes of pleasure couldn't make up for the guilt Stephen felt inside.

"I'm sorry," Stephen said again.

"Don't talk to me," Michael said. "Later, okay? But not now. Not when… I can't even look at you, Stephen." They continued downstairs, a sudden, impermeable silence between them.

Michael spotted Valentine out of the patio at a table set for three. He and Stephen walked out and found seats across from one another with Valentine at the head of the table. Valentine was still holding the baby in his hands, though the newborn was now dressed in a tiny blue sleeper with accompanying blue hat. The baby was still wide awake. His hands were folded as if he were praying.

"Congratulations," Michael said. He leaned over and touched the baby's hand, then pulled away quickly as his face went pale. "What's his name?'

"Jonathan," Valentine said.

"Just like my son," Michael said. "I thought you were going to name him Joshua."

"I changed my mind," Valentine said with a shrug. "I'm sure we'll be able to tell our sons apart. Isn't your boy Jonathan Michael? You can just call him Michael." Michael stared at the domed plate before him and didn't say anything. Stephen understood Michael's discomfort. Michael's own son had been Jonathan for the past four months. Valentine couldn't just expect Michael to change his son's name.

"I think Jonathan is too common a name, nowadays," Stephen said. "Every family has at least two Jonathans. It's obvious you named your son after Jonathan Shadowhunter. It's not even original." Valentine cleared his throat and poured some tea.

"Stephen, son, is there something bothering you?" Valentine asked, "You only hurl insults when you're upset."

"There's nothing to be upset about," Stephen said easily. "I was merely pointing out the overuse of the name Jonathan in the Nephilim culture. I certainly didn't mean to insult you. Forgive me." Valentine smiled and nodded.

They each lifted the domes covering their plates to find a hot breakfast of bacon, eggs, sausage, and potatoes. For a few minutes, they were quiet as they ate and remarked on the weather, which had turned unseasonably cold. An early winter was predicted. It had the potential to last well into February.

"So how did last night go?" Valentine asked. Stephen looked up at Michael, who gazed back nonchalantly.

"Smoothly. The only people who saw us access the Cup were the guards. They seemed hesitant to allow us into the room, but they gave us no trouble," Michael said.

"And no one followed you here?" Valentine asked.

"I doubled back twice. There was no one," Michael replied. "Mission accomplished." He smiled smugly and sipped some tea. Valentine laughed and shook his head.

"The mission is far from accomplished. Now that I have the Mortal Cup, I'll need the Mortal Sword. We are, however, moving along with my plan," Valentine said.

"You have a plan?" Stephen asked.

"No, son, I only wanted you to steal the Cup to show me you would," Valentine said sarcastically.

"Are you insulting me now?" Stephen asked. "Wait, let me come up with a cheeky retort." Valentine frowned.

"Of course I have a plan, and now that you've stolen the Cup, I can tell you the plan. Rest assured, if you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you," Valentine said. "The Accords are to be signed next November, fourteen months from now. You were both mere toddlers the last time the Accords were signed. Basically, Downworlders come to Idris to meet, discuss treaties, to do business, so to speak. It is a time of celebration, where we celebrate our… peaceful relations with Downworlders." His lips twisted as though he tasted something bitter. "My plan is to spend the next fifteen months raising an army by converting mundanes to Nephilim with the Mortal Cup. When the Downworlders come to Idris, we will kill them all."

"You're going to make more Shadowhunters?" Stephen asked.

"Yes. It's not like I can count on you to make more," Valentine said. Stephen blushed. He didn't care that Amatis could no longer bear children, but Valentine made Stephen feel like it was his fault, when it wasn't. Amatis was the one not strong enough to carry his child.

"He can't have anymore," Michael said. "His wife-"

"Michael!" Stephen exclaimed. "Stop talking about it!" Valentine watched the exchange with his hands folded the same way Jonathan had his hands folded.

"Stephen can have children. He just has to go about it differently than you and I," Valentine said. He smirked. "Things seemed strained between you to. Have you had a lover's quarrel?" Michael dropped his forked and recovered it quickly.

"We aren't lovers!" Stephen said. Valentine snorted, jostling the baby, who seemed to glare at his father in his own infantile way.

"Well, something's come between you, and I'll place money on it having something to do with a girl," Valentine said. "It's such a shame when women come between parabatai. Someone always loses." Michael glared at Stephen.

"It's nothing," Michael said. "I didn't sleep well last night, is all." Valentine nodded. He might have said more, but Jonathan started to fuss, clenching his hands into fists as his face turned red.

The patio door opened and Celine walked out. She carried a tea pot in one hand and a baby bottle in the other. She handed Valentine the bottle, who offered it to Jonathan.

"More tea?" Celine asked. Valentine nodded, so Celine refilled his cup, and then topped off Michael's as well. She walked around the table and refilled Stephen's cup as well.

Stephen wanted to believe that he spent the night as far away from Celine as possible, but he hadn't. Sometime during the night, he'd rolled over, took her in his arms, and laid his head against her back. He'd fallen back asleep not smelling her orange blossom perfume, but rather the soft, clean scent of her skin. Now, with Celine just inches away, every memorable scene from the night before played on an endless loop in his mind.

Stephen remembered Celine lying on the bed beneath him. He had kissed her neck and ran his hands across her chest. He continued kissing down her chest, then flicked his tongue over each of her tiny, pert nipples, causing them each to harden beneath his tongue. Celine's skin had tasted like his sweat. Somehow, he had already made her his own. She had sliced her nails down his sides, over his ribs, all the way down to the runes on his hips. Her breath had been hot against the base of his throat. When he came, she pulled his hair and smashed her lips against his. It hurt, though by then he was beyond feeling pain.

Stephen gasped as Celine stepped away. She walked back across the patio and Stephen could not help it, he watched her go, feeling like he was still at her mercy.

"By the Angel, Stephen, it's only Assam tea," Valentine said. He watched Celine walk inside with a predatory look in his eyes. "So it was a woman." Michael mumbled a curse and looked off the patio, out into the rolling hills that surrounded the manor.

"I cheated on my wife," Stephen said. "It was a mistake. It will never happen again." Sex was born out of love, but Stephen didn't love Celine and never would. He couldn't seem to regret last night, however.

"How long have you been married?" Valentine asked.

"Almost four months," Stephen replied. Valentine nodded. "Why?"

"There's a little known rule for Shadowhunter weddings, since so many people marry young and stupid the way you did," Valentine said. "Within six months of getting married, you can annul your marriage for any number of reasons. There are irreconcilable differences, where there is such a difference in an aspect of your marriage, it's unforgivable. You can annul a marriage for reason of insanity: if you go insane, or, if Amatis was to."

"She's not crazy and neither am I," Stephen whispered.

"Infidelity is also grounds for divorce," Valentine said.

"Valentine!" Michael exclaimed. "He's going to go home and never speak about this to his wife. He's not getting divorced over one night spent with another woman."

"Everything happens for a reason," Valentine said. "If Amatis found out, she would never forgive him. As it stands now, Stephen has more than enough reason to seek an annulment. Amatis can't have children, he was unfaithful… why there's barely any sort of marriage left between them, am I right?" He directed his question at Stephen.

"He's not getting divorced," Michael said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get home to my wife. Stephen…Don't do it. You can get passed this. Don't throw everything away over one night." Stephen was unsure of what night Michael was talking about.

"I'll see you later," Stephen said. Michael walked back inside. "Valentine? What do I need to know about the annulment?"

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><p>A few hours later, Stephen arrived back in Alicante. He left Nicias at the stable, and then headed for home. When he got there, he found Amatis sleeping on the couch as usual. Stephen let her sleep and spent some time cleaning up their bedroom. When he felt someone was watching him, he looked up to see Amatis standing in the doorway.<p>

"Where have you been?" Amatis asked. "I thought you would be home in the morning." Stephen shrugged. "Do you even care about me anymore? You used to never make me worry. Now… it's like I don't know you. I never know what's coming next. What's going to happen next, Stephen?"

"I want a divorce," Stephen said. He wanted to look away in that moment, to not have to see the look of shock that appeared across his wife's face, but looking away meant that later, he would doubt he ever asked in the first place.

"No," Amatis said. "I know things have been difficult between us, but we aren't going to get divorced over it. We can work this out. We love each other, right?"

"Amatis, I…" Stephen began. He spent the ride home preparing a speech. He planned to tell Amatis what happened between him and Celine, and then, they would divorce. Now, he couldn't seem to open his mouth to tell her that while she had been home, sick, and heartbroken, that he had been unfaithful. "I just want a divorce. I think we're better off apart."

"You would leave me?" Amatis asked. "You would leave me with nothing? You would walk away from everything just because that's what you want? What about me? What will become of me when you're gone?"

"I assume you'll make it on your own," Stephen said. He forced himself to look at Amatis, to see the tears filling her eyes, because the tears made it real.

"I have nothing," Amatis said. "Luke is gone. Our son is gone. And now, you want to leave to. Why, Stephen? Why would you do this to me?" She started to sob. She took a step forward and reached out to grab Stephen, to hold him close. Stephen stepped backwards. "Why, Stephen, why?"

"Last night… Celine and I had sex," Stephen said. "She came to my room. I wanted her, she wanted me, and… I had her. And the night of Luke's memorial? We took a walk around the lake and I kissed her and I wanted her then. And three weeks ago, the night on my Initiation? I wanted her that night, as well. I was unfaithful. It's grounds for divorce."

"You're a coward," Amatis said. She was crying by then, measuring out her hysteria in tiny, sob laden doses. "You cheated on your wife at the worst time of her life. You're nothing but a coward. Your father was right. You are good for nothing."

"You're absolutely right, and so is he. I am good for nothing. I'm doing you a favor by getting out of your life," Stephen said. "I want a divorce."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Thanks for reading, please review. I have no teaser, sorry!<strong>


	10. Chapter 10: Market Square

**Author's Note: It gets really hard to name chapters sometimes, did you know that? Thanks for reading. Please enjoy this chapter and please review. I'm serious. I need some major encouragement these days. At least tell me you're reading this. You don't even have to say anything beyond the word "hello." Really. I accept all reviews: good, bad, ecstatic, anonymous… Do it for Jace because Celine + Stephen = Jace and you do want to see that, right? Really. ****Close your eyes and think of Jace.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 10: Market Square<strong>

There was nothing left to say after Stephen told Amatis he wanted a divorce. She had plenty to say and screamed awful, hateful words at him in the time he took to pack some clothes. Stephen didn't cry, he barely felt, and would later remember how stoic he was, packing shirts and matching socks as Amatis's entire world came crashing down. Then, suddenly, Stephen was jumping out the front door as it slammed closed and hit him in the foot. Inside the house Amatis continued to scream and cry, hysterical. All of the neighbors were watching, listening, and pretending not to. Stephen walked away from the canal house without a look back.

Stephen took Nicias, left town, and spent the afternoon riding around the country side. At close to sundown he ended up on a hillside overlooking the Herondale manor. Right now, his parents would be sharing a bottle of wine over dinner. Stephen knew if he showed up, he would never hear the end of it. Marcus would roll his eyes and say what Stephen figured he had thought all along: that marrying Amatis, young and stupid, was a mistake. Imogen would want to know why the marriage failed and Stephen wasn't ready to tell his mother that he'd cheated on his wife. He wasn't yet ready to admit that the marriage he thought was going to last forever… wouldn't.

The night air was growing cold and Stephen knew he would need to find shelter for the night. Like it or not, there was only one place he felt welcome at, and his parent's home was not that place. Stephen continued on to the Fairchild Manor, arriving there just as the sun hit the horizon. He stowed his horse in the barn, then walked up to the front door and knocked.

The door opened after a minute. Celine stood there. Stephen never noticed the light dusting of freckles across her nose, how she was so gold and tan, she appeared like every archetype angel he'd ever seen a picture of. All she needed was a halo. Tonight, Celine was wearing a loose dress long enough to brush the floor, with a single strand gold necklace around her neck, rather than her Circle amulet. She was barefoot.

"Stephen," Celine said, shocked.

"Celine," Stephen groaned. He walked inside, took her in his arms, and laid his head on her shoulder. "I've done terrible things." Celine rested one hand against his back as her other hand gently brushed the back of his neck. She was breathing lightly against his throat.

"I know," Celine said. "We were just eating dinner… come on, I'll fix you a plate."

"I'm not hungry," Stephen said. "I'm just here because…" He wasn't ready to admit he had nowhere else to go.

"Come have something to drink. You look like you need a drink," Celine said. She guided him down to the dining room. Stephen walked in to see Valentine at the head of the table, with Hodge to his right. Jocelyn was sitting next to Hodge, looking ill and exhausted. There were two other people there as well, a man and a woman. The woman bore a striking resemblance to Jocelyn.

"I'll just come back later," Stephen said. "You're obviously having dinner with your family."

"You're our family too," Valentine said. "Sit with us. Eat. Celine made us an apple pie for dessert."

Stephen sat down beside Hodge. He didn't eat much in the way of dinner but did enjoy a piece of apple pie covered with ice cream for dessert. After the meal, everyone went into another room to have drinks. Valentine pulled Stephen into the kitchen.

"I didn't think you would actually go through with it," Valentine said, needing not to say what "it" was. "What happened?"

"I asked her for a divorce and told her what happened last night, with Celine. She threw me out," Stephen said. "I didn't want to come here. I know you have your own family, your own… things… going on…"

"Shhh. You're part of my family," Valentine said. He put his arms around Stephen and held him tightly, in a way Celine couldn't. Valentine's arms were wide, warm, all encompassing, and Stephen felt safe in them. "Will you being pursuing an annulment then?"

"Yes," Stephen said, nodding quickly.

"Very good," Valentine said. "You'll need to spend 30 days living apart. That means no going to see her when you're feeling lonely and desperate. At the end of the thirty days you can see the Silent Brothers, who will grant you a divorce."

"Sounds simple enough," Stephen said.

Valentine insisted that Stephen spend the thirty days at Fairchild Manor, and Stephen didn't object. He was shown to a large room at the far end of the manor, away from Valentine and Jocelyn's quarters, and Jonathan's nursery. The room was filled with bookshelves and windows, as well as a large bed and a fireplace.

Once Valentine was gone, Stephen prepared for bed by dressing in pajama pants. He decided against wearing a shirt, as the room was warm. Stephen considered looking over the bookshelves for reading material but felt incredibly tired, and, oddly enough, homesick. Stephen remembered moving into the dorms at the Academy. Once all of the gear had been stowed and his entire trunk of clothing was unpacked and put in the closet, Stephen had crawled into bed and realized that he had left everything he ever knew back home in London. Stephen planned to return to London after graduation, but then he met Amatis and married her. Now, four months after graduation, Stephen was standing in an unfamiliar place. He wasn't homesick for London; he was homesick for a place to call home.

Stephen crawled beneath the quilt on the bed and buried his face in a pillow, hoping to staunch the tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. He placed his hand over his heart and felt the two runes there, etched into his skin. One was for healing; the other was for wedded union. Stephen traced his fingers across his collar bone and down to his bicep to the matching union rune. He began to feel desperately alone.

"Stephen?" Valentine called. He knocked on the door.

"Come in," Stephen said. He sat up and wiped his eyes quickly as Valentine walked in, dressed in dark hunting gear.

"I just wanted to tell you that Hodge and I are going out for the evening. We'll be back later. Let Celine know if you need anything, Stephen," Valentine said with a wink. Stephen rolled his eyes. The last girl he wanted to be with was Celine, though he wasn't denying the fact that he was craving the same numbness he'd felt with her last night.

"Is it wise to risk an Initiation while Jocelyn's parents are here?" Stephen asked. Valentine walked over to the bed and sat beside Stephen.

"Is that your opinion as my second in command?" Valentine asked. He looked down at Stephen, a little smile playing at his lips.

"Anything could happen. The Fairchilds could get suspicious," Stephen said. "We just stole the Cup last night. It would be… wise… to lay low for a few days."

"And if I don't want to lay low? If I want to go out and slaughter every werewolf in Idris? What then, Stephen?" Valentine asked. He ran his finger tips over the scar on Stephen's arm. Stephen felt his skin warm to Valentine's touch. He took a few breathes. Valentine moved his hand to Stephen's chest and slid his fingers gently over the five claw marks the vampires had left behind. The muscles in Stephen's chest tensed, then relaxed.

"You are to… think of the good of the group. We are…" Stephen said, stifling a gasp, "we are nothing without you."

"You give yourself no credit," Valentine mumbled. He ran a finger tip down the center of Stephen's chest, stopping at the waistband of Stephen's pajama pants. "I'm nothing without you, Stephen. Nothing." Stephen shivered. "It's so nice to have another man in the house." Valentine smiled. Stephen looked up into his eyes and found only two dark, blank orbs staring back at him. His breath caught in his throat.

"I'm glad to be here. Your accommodations are… most luxurious," Stephen said.

"I owe it all to Jocelyn," Valentine said. "A good woman gives her husband the means to do anything his heart desires. I'm sorry about you and Amatis. I wish you better luck in the future."

"It's hard to believe it's really over," Stephen said.

"It is, Stephen," Valentine said. "It is." He stood up and touched Stephen's hand once more. "This isn't an Initiation, by the way. Hodge and I are going to Berlin for some demon hunting, for old time's sake. We'll be back before dawn." Valentine walked over to the door, stopping to look up at a cross hanging beside the door. It was an ankh, the symbol for the Circle. "I already have Hodge's fidelity. He would follow me to the ends of the earth if I asked him to. He loves me, Stephen."

"Everyone does," Stephen said. Valentine's mouth quirked into another smile. "Be careful tonight, Valentine."

"Always," Valentine replied, and left the room.

* * *

><p>A little while later, Celine knocked on the door, then entered the room. She was carrying two steaming tea cups and had changed into a warm looking robe. Celine set one of the tea cups on the bed side table.<p>

"What have you brought me?" Stephen asked.

"Hot brandy and water with a little honey," Celine explained. "Valentine said you might have trouble sleeping."

"He just loves slipping me booze, doesn't he?" Stephen asked. Celine sipped from her tea cup and shrugged. She glanced at the door. Stephen picked up his cup and took a sip, then drank it all quickly. He set the tea cup back on the bedside table and sighed as the hot alcohol warmed his throat, then stomach.

"I'll let you know when breakfast is ready in the morning," Celine said. She started for the door.

"Wait, don't go," Stephen said, sitting up quickly. "Stay with me, please. What if I need something?"

"Oh, Stephen, I doubt there is anything you might need," Celine said. Still, she sat down on the edge of the bed. Stephen reached over and took her hand. She wore a small silver ring on her right hand. On closer inspection, Stephen discovered it to be the Midwinter ring.

"Are you a Midwinter, or a Morgenstern?" Stephen asked.

"I don't know anymore," Celine replied. "In the beginning, I was a Midwinter. I was accepted as a Midwinter. Now… I'm Valentine's sister. When he moved in with Jocelyn, I came along. I guess you can say I'm a Morgenstern by proximity."

"Were your parents really killed by a warlock?" Stephen asked. He shouldn't have asked but something couldn't keep himself from asking.

"I don't remember. I was barely a child," Celine said. "Why do you want to know?" Her eyes narrowed.

"No reason," Stephen said quickly.

"Go to sleep. I'm being sent to Alicante tomorrow to pick up provisions. You may accompany me. We'll talk more then," Celine said. She stood up, but Stephen grabbed her by the wrist. Celine barely had time to set her cup down before Stephen pulled her onto the bed. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her lips hungrily, the same way he kissed her the night before. Celine cried out, slapped Stephen across the face, and leapt from the bed.

"What was that for? You wanted me last night. What's so different about tonight?" Stephen demanded.

"Who said I wanted it last night?" Celine asked. "You don't need me tonight anymore than you needed me last night. Do you really think I wanted to be the reason you asked your wife for a divorce?"

"What?" Stephen asked. "What do you mean, you didn't want to be the reason…?"

"Never mind," Celine said. She sat beside him again and kissed him on the cheek as she ran her hands down his chest. His cheek was still stinging from her slap, but was soothed by the gentle touch of her finger tips.

Stephen kissed her lips and closed his eyes, then opened them to look into her eyes. Whereas Valentine's eyes were so dark, Stephen could never look into them, Celine's were a brown so light, then were almost translucent. Stephen could see fear in them, as well as uncertainty, and perhaps, something else. Stephen felt everything Celine was feeling.

"I wouldn't have had you if you didn't want me to," Stephen mumbled. He closed his eyes and kissed her again. Celine ran a hand through Stephen's hair and kissed beneath his left ear.

"You're hard to refuse," Celine said. Stephen looped an arm around her waist and pulled her close once more. She lay down beside him and Stephen rolled into his side so his hips pressed into hers. He was starting to feel hot in the same way Celine always made him burn. Stephen bit his lower lip, and then moved a hand under Celine's robe. He ran his hand up her inner thighs as Celine touched his chest again, kissing him in various places.

"Do you have to refuse me?" Stephen mumbled. Celine's hand stopped over his heart, framing the two runes etched there.

"Yes," Celine whispered. "I don't care what you think you need, it's not sex, and it's certainly not sex with me. You have to wait 30 days to get divorced for a reason, you know." Celine climbed out of the bed.

"I'm sorry," Stephen whispered.

"No, I'm sorry," Celine said. "Good night, Stephen."

* * *

><p>Early the next morning, Stephen was woke up by a knock on the door. He sat up to see Celine disappearing down the hallway. Stephen dressed and went downstairs to find breakfast a repeat of dinner the night before, only, Jocelyn was holding Jonathan, attempting to feed him a bottle as he fussed. Hodge was missing. Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild were trying to offer Jocelyn advice. Stephen took a seat beside Celine.<p>

"Just give him to me and eat your breakfast," Valentine said. Jocelyn handed over the baby looked down at her meal. Valentine offered Jonathan the bottle and he took it readily. "He must love me more." Valentine laughed softly, as if he was joking. Jocelyn's father laughed as well, though he sounded uncomfortable. Jocelyn looked up quickly and stared into Stephen's eyes, daring him to speak. Stephen knew enough about babies to know that they could sense fear and discomfort, and Jocelyn was terrified of her own son.

Breakfast was spent making awkward small talk. After the meal, Stephen prepared to go to Alicante with Celine to pick up supplies.

There was a chill in the air when Stephen helped Celine into a carriage, then climbed in after her. Stephen was glad to have borrowed a coat from Valentine, which he wore over a thin white shirt. Celine was dressed in a pair of dark pants and a green sweater, as well as a pair of boots that came to just below her knees. Just three weeks before, they were skinny dipping in the lake. Now, they were completely covered up, as autumn was in the air.

Mrs. Fairchild had sent along a thermos of hot apple cider mixed with rum, as well as several cookies. The moment they set off for Alicante, Celine put her feet up on the carriage seat and pulled out a book. She tucked some hair behind her ear, and began to read. Stephen lay down as best he could and fell asleep to the rocking of the carriage, waking up only when the carriage stopped.

"You snore," Celine said.

"You-" Stephen began, then thought better of it. He climbed out of the carriage to find them in Market Square, which was not far from Angel Square. The bakery Stephen and Michael had eaten at was close by.

The square bustled with people heading to and from the shops and open air stands. The air smelled like hot, freshly baked bread and sweet, sugary pies. Stephen's mouth watered as he thought about the cinnamon bun he and Michael had shared the other night. He could almost justify buying another. Perhaps Celine would want to share, or, perhaps, he could keep it for himself.

"You'll go to the butcher and pick up the order," Celine was saying. "I'm going to the bakery for bread. We'll meet at the grocer. I have a whole list of things Jocelyn needs for the baby and Valentine wants to have another apple pie sometime soon."

"The what?" Stephen asked.

"The butcher, Stephen," Celine said. Stephen was unused to this side of Celine; the side who told him what to do while he did as she said. She reminded him of Amatis, and he was unsure of whether to dislike being drug about town, or like being put in his place. "Make sure we aren't cheated on the meatballs."

She walked into a bakery without a look back. Stephen watched her retreat, and then went to the butcher, where he got an improbable amount of meat he then took back to the carriage. He met Celine at the grocery store. She got a cart and began tossing things into it as she demanded Stephen go find other things.

"I need a dozen green apples… no, make it two dozen… no, three," Celine said. She weighed a head of lettuce and gestured off to some part of the produce area.

"Why?" Stephen asked.

"Valentine's pie," Celine snapped.

"I hate green apples," Stephen mumbled.

"You seemed to like them last night," Celine said.

"You seemed to like-" Stephen began and again, thought better of it.

He walked over to a table full of apples and began to count them into a bag. He felt an apple hit the side of his boot and looked down to see that the apple in question was red, not green.

"Angel," A voice whispered. Stephen looked over to see Amatis standing beside a display of red apples. She was holding several in her hands, but her hands were tiny and the apples looked dangerously close to falling from her hands. There was a half full shopping cart beside her, which wasn't surprising. Today was Tuesday and they always did the shopping on Tuesday. Stephen could imagine tossing a leg of lamb into her shopping cart, then going home to slow cook spicy Welsh lamb, the only meal he was capable of cooking. They would still be married…. No, they were still married. Stephen should have been going home with her, not Celine.

Stephen's mouth fell open. He tried to say her name but no sound came out, only air. Amatis lifted her hands to her chest, clutching the apples, but another slipped from her fingers, hit the floor, and split in half. It had only been 24 hours since they last saw each other, but Amatis seemed to have fallen completely apart in that time. Her hair was a mess. She was wearing baggy pants and an old shirt of Stephen's. Amatis's face was pale, her eyes blood red and filled with tears. She looked half crazy and Stephen was unsure of who to blame.

"Stephen!" Celine called, "Come say hello to little Alec!" Stephen wrenched his eyes away from Amatis to see Celine halfway across the produce department, standing with Robert and Maryse. She was holding a baby in her arms and she was smiling down at him. When Stephen looked back at Amatis, he saw only three red apples rolling across the floor.

It wouldn't be the first time Stephen assumed he was only seeing things. Amatis couldn't have been there. She couldn't have been that close, and he couldn't have been stupid enough to let her go.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed that chapter. Please review. Please? At least pressure me into updating soon because as of right now Chapter 11 is 166 words of an outline. Thanks for reading, again, from the bottom of my heart!<strong>


	11. Chapter 11: Thought and Memory

**Author's Note: Thank you all, so much, for the wonderful reviews! Please, keep them coming. I appreciate your kind thoughts very much and I love your opinions. Please enjoy this chapter, and perhaps, let me know what you think?**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11: Thought &amp; Memory<strong>

Once all of the shopping was done, Stephen and Celine sat down at a cafe for a quick snack with Robert and Maryse. Maryse and Celine spent the time gossiping. Stephen barely spoke; Robert glared at him over a cup of black coffee. Stephen didn't bother asking Robert why he hated him so much. There was some sort of animosity towards Herondales that was bred into every Lightwood. With the exception of Stephen's great-great grandfather, Will, who married a Lightwood, Herondales and Lightwoods went together like oil and water: they never mixed and never saw a reason to mix.

Robert sipped his coffee, staring directly into Stephen's eyes. Alec lay in his arms, sleeping peacefully, having finished a bottle not long before.

"Do you want to hold him?" Robert asked. There was something in his tone that belittled Stephen, whether on purpose or not. Maryse and Celine stopped talking and turned to Stephen, waiting for his reply. Stephen's face got hot as he looked down at the cheese Danish on his plate. His throat was starting to feel sore and scratchy and no amount of tea would make it feel any better.

"I need air," Stephen said abruptly. He stood up and walked out of the café. Once outside, he took deep breathes of cool, fresh air. He sat down on a bench, glad to be free of the stuffy café.

A woman with long brown hair walked by and continued into a small store. Stephen jumped up after a second and hurried in after her only to find that the woman wasn't Amatis, she wasn't even close to Amatis's age, but Amatis couldn't have gone home. She was upset and whenever she was upset, she liked to walk. She couldn't have left Market Square. Stephen left the shop and went to some open air market stalls, looking for Amatis, but never saw her. There were people selling handmade jewelry at one stall.

One afternoon in early spring Stephen and Amatis had cut out of the only class they took together (Advanced Runes for Defense and Battle) and came to Market Square. They got fried dough covered in cinnamon and sugar from one vendor, then walked around, until they came to this particular market stall.

Stephen had been thinking about asking Amatis to marry him but hadn't worked up the nerve to tell her that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Saying words like that- the words that meant the most- was something Stephen struggled with. He just wasn't good with grand gestures and confessing his love. They'd been together four months, which was when most Shadowhunters began to discuss marriage, but Amatis hadn't brought up that topic and Stephen wasn't even sure she wanted to get married. So when Amatis began gushing over a gorgeous vintage bloodstone ring at the market stall, Stephen saw an opportunity, however, he had no money to purchase the ring Amatis desired.

When they returned to campus, Stephen skipped another class (History of Demons- 950A.D.-1500A.D.), returned to Market Square, and spent an entire two weeks allowance on the ring. That night, when Stephen walked Amatis home from school, he pulled the ring out and offered it to her. Stephen didn't need to say that he'd never given a girl a ring before, that he'd never felt this way for a girl before, Amatis just understood. Even though it was another two months before Stephen summoned the nerve to drop to one knee and ask Amatis to marry him, he always believed their engagement had started the day he gave her a ring and said nothing at all.

Amatis had been wearing the bloodstone ring yesterday as she stood beside him, crying, her heart broken beyond repair.

"Stephen!" A girl exclaimed. Stephen spun around quickly, a smile on his face. Celine stomped over, carrying a bag from the bakery. "You just left. I've been looking for you for the past twenty minutes! Where have you been?"

"I was hot. I needed air. Robert's an insufferable prick," Stephen said. Celine folded her arms. "And… I don't feel good."

"So heal yourself," Celine said. She frowned and laid the back of her hand against his forehead. "You're sick, let's go home. You'll need more than a rune." Celine grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away. Stephen turned around once more, searching the crowd for Amatis, before following.

* * *

><p>Once in the carriage, Stephen fell asleep with his head in Celine's lap. Midway through the ride home he sneezed into his hand.<p>

"God bless you," Celine said.

"I beg your pardon?" Stephen asked. He sat up and grabbed the thermos of apple cider and rum. He took a sip and offered it to Celine, who shook her head. "God bless me?"

"Mundanes say it because they think the devil can claim your soul when you sneeze. It's cute. God bless you. Angel bless you. Whatever," Celine said.

"I sneezed. I don't need blessed, I need a handkerchief," Stephen said. Celine tossed him one that smelled like her perfume. Stephen blew his nose, then leaned back against the seat and sighed. "I don't believe in God. I barely believe in the Angel."

"I beg your pardon?" Celine asked. She closed her book and sat up as well, taking notice. "Why not?"

"If God… or the Angel… were the all-loving, all-controlling deities we've learned them to be, why would they allow Luke to be killed by hellish creatures?" Stephen asked. "If God and/or the Angel actually exist, why do we need to kill demons at all? Shouldn't God or the Angel take care of them for us? It seems to me like we, as Shadowhunters, are sort of unnecessary here."

"That's not true," Celine said. Her voice shook. "We have a heavenly mandate…"

"Says who? One man saw the Angel. How do we know he even saw a heavenly being? Our entire culture could be built on lies!" Stephen exclaimed. Celine looked unsettled.

"I don't see how you of all people can dispute the existence of the Angel," Celine said. "You have to know what people say about Herondales."

"That we're emotionally tortured but blessed in many different ways?" Stephen asked. Celine snorted but didn't get distracted.

"People say that someone in your family encountered an Angel, and that you carry evidence of that encounter in a birthmark," Celine said. "I've seen it, you know."

"You were eye level with it," Stephen said. He took another sip of apple cider and finally began to feel the effects of the rum. "You can sit there and tell me how we all have a purpose. You can tell me that the Angel exists; I don't care. You never saw the Angel, and neither did I, and I'm not believing in something I can't see."

"So strip your runes and melt into mundane society, if you don't think there's a reason for being here," Celine said. "It's called faith, Stephen. For someone people, all they have is faith that there is a higher power, that we aren't just tossed onto this earth for God, or the Angel to manipulate. Some people believe that there has got to be something more than just… this."

Stephen sniffed and wiped his nose. He looked out the window at the country side they were traveling through. He took another sip of the apple cider. The rum certainly wasn't making him feel any better but that was beside the point.

"Evil exists. I believe we were put on this earth to fight evil in whatever form it may be," Celine said. "The Angel exists. We have a purpose. Why are you disputing this?"

"I just… Never mind," Stephen said. "My head hurts and I just…"

"Stephen." Celine said, softly. She touched his hand.

"If the Angel exists, if he wants us to continue to fight and populate the word with more Shadowhunters… why did he take my son to soon? Why did he make it so Amatis couldn't have any more children?" Stephen asked. His eyes filled up with tears as he thought about Amatis standing beside him, holding some apples and falling apart.

"It's wrong to question the will of the Angel," Celine said, because she wasn't sure what else to say. Stephen felt something tight and painful well up in his throat. He let out a choked sounding sob.

"I just want to know why my son had to die," Stephen said. "Is it me? Did I do something wrong? I only did what I had to do. I did nothing wrong."

"You did nothing wrong," Celine said. "Sometimes, things just happen that are beyond our control. You must have faith, Stephen. There's a reason for everything."

* * *

><p>Not long after they arrived home, Stephen found himself up in his bedroom, having been brought there by Celine and Mr. Fairchild. He had slept the entire rest of the ride home after falling into a drunken stupor. Celine was now waving a stele at him, menacingly. Stephen was backed into a corner.<p>

"Just take the rune, Stephen," Celine said.

"NO! You keep away from me warlock!" Stephen cried. He had drank most of the apple cider and rum and was now caught somewhere between staggering drunk and delirious with a fever.

"Just open your shirt so I can apply a rune," Celine said. "I'll make you feel all better."

"WITCHCRAFT!" Stephen screamed. "You're violating the Accords! She-devil! Spawn of Lilith!"

Celine gave Stephen one last even glare before she kneed him in the crotch. Stephen fell onto the bed, coughing, gagging, and grabbing himself in a most unsightly way. Celine seized the collar of his shirt and pulled it in opposite directions so that the material shredded down the middle, completely baring Stephen's chest. Stephen sobered instantly.

"Oh, sweetheart," Stephen gasped, "You next?" Celine pressed the tip of her stele to Stephen's chest and drew one rune, followed by another. Stephen looked down at the runes as they sunk into his skin. "But isn't that rune for…?" And then there was blackness.

* * *

><p>It was dark outside when Stephen opened his eyes again. His body felt heavy and painful, as if he had laid flat on his back for an undetermined amount of time. He turned his head to see Celine reading beside the bed. Her hair was pulled up and back into a messy bun, just the way he liked it. He had seen her so many different ways but would have never expected to wake up to her at his bedside.<p>

It had been several days since Stephen woke up with anyone. Without Amatis, Stephen should have been alone, but then there was Celine, who knew all of his dirty secrets and didn't hate him for it. They made mistakes together, and yet, Celine was still there. Stephen imagined pulling Celine into his bed, holding her tight, and falling back to sleep with her.

Stephen glanced down at his chest to see the scars of the two runes Celine drew on him. The first was a potent healing rune, and the second was a sedation rune, meant to knock someone unconscious for the better part of 36 hours.

"You're awake," Celine said. She closed her book and leaned over to brush some hair off of Stephen's forehead. "It was just a common cold. You really didn't need sedated after all." Stephen rolled his eyes. He remembered Celine's gleeful look right before the darkness covered his eyes.

"She-devil," Stephen groaned. "Give me tea or leave me to die." Celine poured a cup of tea and gave it to Stephen. He had several sips and felt his energy return, slowly. Celine was smiling. "What?"

"You British boys and your love of tea," Celine said. "I like it."

"Don't lie. It's the accent that makes you want to lose your panties," Stephen said. He climbed out of bed and crossed the room. Celine remained in her chair, speechless. Stephen brushed his teeth and was washing his face when Celine walked over to the bathroom door.

"You missed breakfast, so I can make you something for lunch. Or you can have breakfast. I'm sure I can put together some bacon and eggs," Celine said. She leaned against the door jamb and folded her arms.

"Were you at my bedside the entire time I was sleeping?" Stephen asked.

"Well, some of the time…. I wasn't sure when you would wake up and if you would need anything," Celine said.

"I was sedated for 36 hours. I wasn't going anywhere," Stephen said. Celine looked down at the floor, not making eye contact. She was showing her vulnerability now, which was such a contrast to the way she had been before at the market. "You care for me. I was more than just a quick fuck to you."

"Of course I care about you," Celine said. "But what happened before meant nothing. It shouldn't have happened. You were married and you still are and you…"

"And I'm standing in my bathroom, shirtless, and you're still here," Stephen said. "I must have something impressive if you keep coming back."

Celine's cheeks took on a most delightful blush. "That's hardly the case," she said, not daring to look at any part of Stephen's body.

Stephen walked over and twirled his fingers around a few strands of Celine's hair. He kissed her once on the neck. Celine placed her hands on his stomach, just beneath his ribs. She never could decide whether to push him away or pull him close. Stephen took her by the hips and pulled her warm body against his.

"So are you going to lose your panties or do I need to keep talking?" Stephen asked. Celine's mouth fell open. "I said, do I need to keep talking, or…"

"You're a married man," Celine said. "You will be married for the next 28 days, and then…" Stephen gave her a Cheshire grin. "We aren't having this conversation. You loved her and I refuse to do anything with you until you decide whether or not you still love her."

"So you do want to do something with me; I just have to wait 28 days?" Stephen asked.

"Do you want breakfast or lunch?" Celine retorted. Stephen kissed Celine gently on the lips and looked into her eyes.

"Toast and jam," Stephen whispered. Celine backed up slowly and hurried from the room.

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later, Stephen left his room dressed in pants and a new sweater which had suspiciously appeared in his closet. There were other new clothes in there as well. Stephen knew he had a closet full of clothes back at the canal house (or, he hoped to) and he knew he would need to go back sometime to retrieve them. He had left most of his weapons there, however, going back to the house meant facing Amatis and Stephen wasn't ready for that.<p>

Celine was already in the kitchen when Stephen walked in. She had brewed another pot of tea and made some toast which she covered with red jam. A glass of gold toned liquid sat beside the plate on the table. Stephen sat down and regarded the beverage.

"Valentine said that it should restore your strength," Celine said. Stephen drank the beverage and ate all of his toast as Celine made preparations for dinner.

When Stephen finished eating, he remained at the table, watching Celine. He hated to admit it, but Valentine was right: Celine would make an excellent wife. She was good at taking care of people, and also seemed to be good in the kitchen. Celine wasn't difficult to look at either. When she tied her hair back and leaned against the counter to look over a recipe, Stephen swore he was becoming aroused.

"Stephen?" Jocelyn asked, walking into the kitchen. Stephen tore his eyes from Celine's backside and looked up at Jocelyn, guilty without her having to say a word. "Valentine wants to see you. He's up in the aviary."

"Beg pardon?" Stephen asked.

"His bird room. It's up on the third floor, where the attic should be," Celine said. Stephen nodded and left the room when Jocelyn's back was turned. He settled himself on the long climb up the flight of stairs to the second floor, and then found more stairs that took him to the third floor. From there he found a door marked "Aviary" and knocked.

"Come in," Valentine called. Stephen opened the door and walked inside.

The Aviary was a large room which contained several large bird cages, as well as a few smaller ones. One wall was lined with windows. Valentine was standing in front of the windows, a large black bird perched on his shoulder.

"You asked for me?" Stephen asked.

"Ah, my son, you're alive," Valentine said. He walked over and touched Stephen's forehead.

"It was just a case of the sniffles," Stephen said. "Jocelyn said you wanted to talk to me?"

"Right, of course," Valentine said. "I'd like you to meet Hugin." Valentine pointed to the large bird that sat on his shoulder. "Did you know that birds can live for decades? They're one of the most faithful pets you can have." Valentine walked across the room and locked Hugin into a cage. Stephen noted that the bird had massive claws and took a step backwards.

"Is that so?" Stephen asked.

"Absolutely. If trained properly, a bird can faithfully serve its master for many years," Valentine said. "I've had Hugin since I was sixteen and his brother Munin since I was fourteen." As if it was waiting for an opportunity to make an entrance, a large black raven flew into an open window and landed in an empty cage. There was a tiny, squeaking mouse caught in the raven's claw. The raven released the mouse onto the floor of the cage, then pounced on it and began to tear the tiny mouse to shreds. Valentine smiled. "The name Hugin means "thought" and the name Munin means "memory." I was philosophical in my younger days. The names fit, though. One cannot have memories without thoughts."

Stephen nodded and looked over at a cage filled with several small finches which leapt from perch to perch, unable to stop and rest for more than a second. There were an uneven number of finches in the cage, and more females than males. Stephen wondered why.

"I wanted to offer you something. A gift, of sorts," Valentine continued. He led Stephen over to a small cage which held a thick blanket. Nestled within the fabric lay a tiny bird covered with downy soft feathers. Valentine opened the cage and brought the bird out. "He's a peregrine falcon. These falcons are known for their speed. He'll hunt just about anything and do whatever you ask. This type of bird learns very quickly and never forgets a command. I want you to have him." Valentine held the bird out to Stephen, who stepped back. "I thought you could train him, make him your own."

"Oh," Stephen said. "You want to give me a bird."

"A peregrine falcon," Valentine clarified. "I thought I could help you train him. It's something we could do together, just you and I." Valentine again offered the bird to Stephen.

"That's so kind of you," Stephen said. The baby bird had opened its eyes and looked up at Stephen warily. The bird's eyes were black, beady, and never blinked. "I'm not really… Birds aren't my thing. Thank you, though."

"You don't want the falcon?" Valentine asked. He seemed confused and Stephen felt awkward turning down a gift. "But… I thought…"

"I would love it, don't get me wrong, but I would never find a use for… a falcon. Nothing personal," Stephen said quickly. "One time birds built a nest in the garden at the Institute and I got to close one day, and…." He pointed to a small scar above his eye brow.

"By the Angel," Valentine said. He put the falcon back in its cage. "I would never force you into something you didn't want…"

"Thank you," Stephen said.

"You're welcome," Valentine said. Hugin cawed and bit at the wire bars of his cage.

"Is that all you wanted to discuss?" Stephen asked.

"Well, there's one more thing," Valentine replied. He walked over to a window and Stephen followed. "I just wanted to know… what do you think of Celine?"

"Celine?" Stephen asked. He had been asked about her four weeks before, however, his opinion of her had changed. "She's a lovely girl."

"Lovely, yes," Valentine said. "Does she arouse you?"

"Arouse… me?" Stephen asked.

"I know you had sex with her, it's why you're here now. I just want to know, do you plan on having sex with her again?" Valentine asked.

"Ummm…." Stephen said. "I don't think that's any of your business."

"So does she or does she not arouse you?" Valentine asked. He stepped closer to Stephen. Stephen felt himself start to sweat.

"I don't know what she does to me," Stephen said. "I don't know how I should feel for her. I know I feel things I shouldn't, not now, and perhaps, not ever." Valentine appeared barely satisfied with that answer.

"Allow me to be blunt," Valentine said. "You thought your marriage would last forever and now it won't. You're heartbroken and on the rebound. You might want to go out and fool around. You shouldn't feel guilty about doing that. I want you to go out and have fun. Find some girl to go home with. Live your life with no strings attached. Fuck anyone you want. Just keep your cock out of my sister." Hugin screeched and banged his foot against the cage. Valentine walked over to the cage and got the bird out, mumbling to it.

Everything Valentine had said was true. Stephen was feeling heartbroken and he did want someone to have mindless, numbing sex with just to make the next 28 days bearable. Then there was Celine, who sat by his bed for 36 hours, who had offered herself to him twice, and who he had amazing sex with. Celine felt something for him, be it love or lust, Stephen did not care. He remembered being in the kitchen with her, watching as she leaned against the counter, her perfect little backside within his reach… he felt aroused by her just standing there. Now, Valentine was forbidding Stephen from doing anything with Celine. Stephen bit his lip and exhaled softly.

This changed everything.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please review? Thank you!<strong>


	12. Chapter 12: Mercy

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate it. Also, welcome to new readers, I'm happy you have chosen to check out this story. Please continue to review. If you like it, love it, or hate it, I want to know, okay? Please enjoy this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters**

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><p><strong>Chapter 12: Mercy<strong>

The next night, Stephen rode into Alicante to work a night shift in the prison. He walked into the locker room to find a mix of guards who were either starting their shift or finishing it. Stephen dressed slowly, listening to the quiet gossip around him. It had been nearly a week since he and Michael had stolen the Mortal Cup. It was possible that the Clave didn't know the Cup was missing, but it was more likely that they knew knew about the theft and weren't saying anything. Regardless, the Mortal Cup was never mentioned in any of the conversations.

Michael should have been getting dressed beside Stephen, but he wasn't. Stephen looked over to Michael's locker and mourned their friendship. He had been looking forward to spending the night with Michael. Celine had packed Stephen a snack which consisted of a green apple (which Stephen disliked) a chunk of white cheddar cheese, and a few slices of bread. Michael brought the best snacks and his wife always sent extra for Michael to share.

Stephen sat down on the bench in front of his locker and closed his eyes. He tried to take a nap earlier in the day but hadn't slept the best. Celine remained elusive, which was a blessing and curse. Stephen desired her, suddenly, in a most acute way. When he lay in bed during the day, he'd wished for her body beside his.

"Sorry I'm late," a voice whispered. Stephen looked up as Michael dropped a paper bag into his lap. He opened the bag to find a turkey sandwich, a bag of oatmeal cookies, and a small jar of orange marmalade. "Are you feeling better? Robert said you looked terrible the other day."

"Robert hates me," Stephen said.

"He's jealous of you and I," Michael said. "Robert and I were close… before he married Maryse and I married Josie. Now we're just…" Michael shrugged. "He's sore about us working together and he's not pleased with your… promotion."

"Tell him it's not my fault," Stephen said.

"I rather like my men fighting over me," Michael said with a smirk. He stood up, pulled off his shirt, and tossed it into his locker. Michael's skin smelled warm and spicy. There was a cluster of tan freckles on his lower back, remnants from a spring spent training outside with his shirt off. Stephen resisted running his fingers over them, just to feel Michael's skin. Michael pulled open his belt, dropped his pants, and tossed them into his locker. Stephen looked away. When he looked back after a moment, Michael had pulled his uniform pants on and was now dropping his uniform coat over his head. "I was in talking to the boss. Tonight's my last night here."

"You're quitting?" Stephen asked. He had only take the job because Valentine told him to and because he felt he was doing penance for killing the vampires. The prison was dark and miserable; it would be unbearable without Michael.

"Josie and I were talking about having another baby. She doesn't want me working with Downworlders anymore," Michael said. He glanced around to see that the locker room was emptying out. "I've done my work here, you know. I did what I had to do."

"I'll miss you," Stephen said. Michael smiled and touched Stephen on the cheek.

"I'll miss you too, pumpkin," Michael said. "Come visit me at my manor any time, day or night, alright?" Stephen blushed and bit his lip, looking down at the floor.

Once Michael was dressed, they left the locker room and started down a flight of stairs to the prison cells below the Gard. Stephen felt his arm brush against Michael's despite the layers of cloth between them. He remembered how close they used to be, but then Stephen slept with Celine and nothing was ever the same after that.

"I'm sorry about before, with Celine," Stephen said. "I know I shouldn't have been with her. I can't explain it. You know when something feels right at the wrong time? That's how I felt."

"And now you're getting divorced, so Robert has told me," Michael said. He sighed. "You loved Amatis. What changed?"

"I don't know," Stephen said. "I just can't be with her, knowing everything that happened. She deserves someone better than me. She can find someone better. She should be allowed to."

"I was never raised to believe that divorce is the answer to marital troubles. I think the six month rule is bullshit. If you want to annul your marriage after only six months, you should have never gotten married in the first place," Michael said. "But that being said… does it feel right? Does divorcing Amatis feel like the right thing to do?"

"I don't know what the right thing is anymore," Stephen whispered. Michael grabbed Stephen by the hand and pushed him against the wall. Stephen felt the air leave his lungs. His lips parted as he searched for more breath. Michael rested his hand on Stephen's waist.

"Does it feel right in your heart?" Michael asked. He touched Stephen on the chest. "In here, does it feel right, for you to leave Amatis because you can't be the man she deserves anymore?"

"She deserves a better man than me," Stephen said.

"Then I have to support your decision," Michael said. He released Stephen and continued down the steps. "It sucks, I won't lie, and it's a shitty thing you're doing, but if it feels right…"

"I love her enough to let her find someone who will love her more," Stephen said.

"Then I've got your back on it, until the end," Michael said. He gave Stephen a smile.

"So we're okay? We're friends again?" Stephen asked.

"We were never not friends," Michael said. "You think I would give this up because we disagreed on what you did with a woman? You can't rid of me that quick." Stephen smiled. He wasn't sure what "this" was, but wasn't in any hurry to give it up.

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><p>After securing the prison and making sure all occupants were locked in their cells, Stephan and Michael were assigned to patrol the vampire wing. Their first order of business was to feed the vampires. They went to a storage room to receive bags of fresh blood they then distributed.<p>

"So did you really mean it? We're friends again?" Stephen asked.

"Best friends until the very end," Michael said. Stephen took a bag of blood and slid it between the bars of a cell. He felt cold fingers touch his and recoiled, though it was best not to show fear.

"I need your help," Stephen said. "When I left Amatis, I didn't bring much of my stuff. I need to move my things out of the canal house. Would you be able to help me with that?" Michael was silent. They continued down the long, dark corridor and stopped at the door to another cell. Stephen brought out another bag of blood and gave it to another vampire.

"Sure, I can help," Michael said.

"But you don't want to," Stephen said.

"No, I don't want to see your nice, sweet wife cry because you're divorcing her," Michael said. "But if it's what you have to do, I'll help you."

"It will be quick and painless, I promise. I just need to get some clothes and all of my weapons," Stephen said. Michael shrugged. They stopped at another cell and Stephen again offered a bag of blood. The vampire held in the cell looked up at him, then spit in his face. "OUCH!" The saliva burned Stephen's skin as he wiped it away.

"What the hell was that for?" Michael demanded. Stephen threw the blood at the vampire and kicked the cell bars angrily.

"You can bet I'm reporting you," Stephen said.

"Not like I'm going anywhere," the vampire mumbled. He took his blood and went to the corner of his cell.

"Let me see," Michael said. He touched Stephen's cheek and held his witch light up.

"It's nothing," Stephen said. "It just stings a little."

"I know," Michael mumbled. "I'll patch you up when we're finished." Stephen pulled away and continued down the corridor. All around them, there were quiet whispers Stephen couldn't quite hear, much as he strained his ears. Usually, the wing was so quiet, Stephen could only hear Michael's breathing beside him.

"Let's get out of here," Stephen mumbled. Michael nodded.

As they continued down to the far end of the wing, the prisoners shrunk back from their cell doors. These were the prison's long time occupants, vampires who committed heinous crimes and were in prison because the Clave wasn't sure what to do with them. They could have been put to death but then other vampires would protest the execution and half the time, it was just easy to leave the vampires in the dark under belly of the prison for all of eternity. It was hard to threaten the undead with death.

The vampire who had been there the longest, Romulus Alabaster, was housed in the last cell of the vampire wing. He had been there for 40 years and was imprisoned for breaking into a Paris orphanage and draining well over fifty children of blood. When they were all dead, he then used their bodies in horrible, sadistic ways until the Clave finally stepped in. Stephen was unsure of how or why Romulus was still alive, as he could justify killing Romulus himself.

"Evening, Romulus," Michael said. Romulus was sitting beside the cell door, down on the floor. He seemed so old compared to the other vampires. Most of the time, he never spoke. Stephen shrugged and brought out one last bag of blood. He pushed it beneath the cell door.

"I'm weak, child," Romulus mumbled. "Push it closer."

"Get it yourself," Stephen said. Michael frowned. Romulus never gave them any trouble. Stephen knelt down onto the ground and pushed the blood closer.

"Stephen!" Michael exclaimed. Romulus leapt from the floor and sunk his razor sharp finger nails into Stephen's palm.

Stephen's chest slammed into the metal bars of the cell as Romulus pulled him closer. The flesh at his wrist ripped along the scar Valentine left behind. Romulus groaned lustfully and teased his tongue over the scar, tasting Stephen's blood. There was a light slurping noise, then the vampire latched on and began to drink.

Somewhere, someone was screaming hysterically. Michael was panicking, botching rune after rune before he finally opened the cell door. He pulled a blade off his belt and cried out the name of an angel. Stephen saw a flash of blinding light before Michael brought the blade down, stabbing it into the vampire's back.

"Thank you," Romulus whispered, and died, still holding Stephen's bleeding wrist to his mouth.

Stephen moaned and collapsed on his back on the wing's floor. Michael was beside him then, wrapping his hand around Stephen's arm, cradling him the way Valentine had. Stephen heard pounding feet high above his head, and more rushing towards him. Someone must have heard the commotion on the vampire wing and was coming to assist.

"I did nothing wrong," Michael said.

"He deserved to die," Stephen said. He would look back on this moment and realize that this was the moment he agreed with everything Valentine ever said.

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><p>Most prison guards lasted about three months before quitting their job. This was why the prison was always looking for new guards, and why the head prison guard wasn't surprised when Stephen walked into his office, bleeding and half hysterical, and resigned from his position. Marcus would be so proud; his son only held a job for two and a half weeks.<p>

"Have some chocolate, pumpkin," Michael said. He pushed a mug of hot cocoa over to Stephen. They were back at the bakery where they had met before stealing the Mortal Cup. Michael and Stephen were still dressed in their guard uniforms, the contents of their lockers scattered on the table.

Michael wouldn't be blamed for Romulus's death, as it was obvious why Romulus had to die. The Clave would look the other way and pretend the incident never happened, however, Valentine once told Michael that the Clave was always suspicious of Circle activities. It was best that Michael and Stephen stay out of Alicante to prevent an inquiries into the Circle.

Stephen had taken all of the healing runes he could and was now trying to recover from what little vampire saliva ended up in the ripped open wound on his arm. His nerves felt shot; his mind spinning and agitated. He couldn't sit still for more than a second. Even being in the bakery was painful.

Stephen picked up the mug of hot chocolate and carried it out of the bakery. Michael hurried after him, carrying two éclairs.

"You can't… just…" Michael said. Stephen drank some of the hot chocolate and threw the mug at the first brick wall he could find. He accepted an éclair from Michael and ate it on the walk to the canal house. Once there, they stopped on the front sidewalk and looked inside.

Amatis was sitting on the couch, curled in a blanket, reading a book. It looked like she was still waiting for him to come back home, to make up with her, to pretend that his cheating on her never occurred. She always did look for the best in him.

Stephen climbed up the front steps and pushed open the front door. He felt Michael's hand on his back, pushing him, reminding Stephen that he was there. Amatis looked up and took in Stephen's tattered, blood stained and bruised appearance.

"What happened to you?" Amatis asked.

"This is what I've become," Stephen said. He held his arms out at his sides. The palm of his left hand was stained with his own blood, and the jacket of his coat was wet with it as well. "I've killed, Amatis, and I'll kill again. I've done horrible things and you deserve better than me. Marrying you was a mistake. You deserve more."

"Yes, I do," Amatis said. She didn't cry, she only looked Stephen in the eyes, as if she already resigned herself to this.

Stephen walked up stairs and began to throw his clothes into a trunk. When it was full Michael hauled it downstairs and Stephen moved on to pack his arsenal of weapons. He had so many which had been amassed from school. There were blades of all sizes, daggers and knives and swords and even a crossbow from Luke, who had insisted Stephen could excel at archery despite Stephen's barely passing grade in the subject. He might have failed that class, had it not been for Luke's patient tutoring. Amatis would want Luke's crossbow, and so Stephen left the crossbow behind.

The last order of business was a silver box adorned with birds which sat on the dresser. Stephen opened the box and pulled out his family ring first, then a short dagger which was decorated with more swooping birds and his initials. Like so many Herondales who came before him, Stephen received the dagger from his father on his 16th birthday. Every Herondale male had a dagger made the same way, with their initials, and following their death, every Herondale male was to be burned with their dagger clutched in their right hand. It was tradition.

"Anything else?" Michael asked. Stephen shoved the dagger back into the box and followed Michael from the room.

Amatis remained in the living room. She wasn't crying but looked ready to collapse. Stephen didn't want to cause her any more pain. He didn't want to delay the inevitable.

"I'm sorry," Stephen whispered. He took her face in his hands and kissed her one last time on the lips. "I'll see you in 27 days."

"Goodbye, Stephen," Amatis whispered.

Stephen followed Michael out of the house.

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><p>They got back to Fairchild Manor in the middle of the night. Valentine was sitting outside at the fire circle with Hodge and Robert when Michael and Stephen walked outside. Together, they managed to move Stephen's possessions into his room, and then Michael departed for home.<p>

Stephen took a long, hot shower and crawled into bed. He was still awake an hour later and decided to go downstairs for a glass of water. Celine had been absent from all of the evening's events, but Stephen knew she was probably in bed. He left his room, snuck downstairs, went to the kitchen, and drank four glasses of water. When his thirst was satisfied, Stephen decided to go for a walk around the house.

Fairchild Manor didn't seem that large from the outside, however, Stephen found himself lost several times over as he wandered from room to room. It seemed like Jocelyn, Valentine, and Celine only used a few rooms. The rest were filled with dust covered furniture and drapery covered windows. One room contained a large pool table, five of the balls (two with stripes, three solid) still frozen in play. At the end of one hallway, there was a door framed with muted yellow light.

Stephen went down to the room and pushed open the door to find a Library, not unlike the one in the London Institute, but much smaller. There were bookshelves stacked with old books to the ceiling. The room smelled like old paper… and orange blossoms. Stephen walked between the bookshelves all the way to the far end of the library, where he found a Celine sitting on a chaise lounge in front of a fire place. She was dressed in a long white nightgown.

"You're home early," Celine said. Stephen lifted his arm and showed her his scar. "Stephen!" Celine jumped up and hurried over.

"I quit," Stephen said. Celine ran her hands over his body, feeling for other injuries. "I'm not supposed to be here. Valentine told me to keep away from you."

"You can still see me. It's not like we're going to do anything," Celine said. "I don't even want you."

Stephen wasn't sure what to say, and then, he decided not to say anything at all. He grabbed Celine by the hips and pulled her against him as he pressed his lips to hers. Celine made a noise of shock, only for a second. Then she moved her hands up his waist and lifted his shirt up and over his head. She dropped his hands to his pajama pants, pushed them down, and kicked them off.

They staggered across the room, kissing and touching, caught in each other's arms. Celine tripped backwards onto the lounge chair and pulled Stephen after her. He slammed his hips against hers and kissed her neck, biting when she least expected it. He moved a hand up her nightgown and ripped her panties down, then pushed her nightgown up but left it on.

"Did he really… say… to stay away from me?" Celine asked. She put a hand on Stephen's back and arched her back. Stephen touched her breasts through the soft silk of her nightgown.

"He told me to keep my cock out of his sister," Stephen said. Celine laughed aloud and covered her mouth. Stephen pushed her hand away and kissed her, forcing his tongue between her teeth, tasting her spit. Celine sunk her fingers into his hair. Her nails dug into his scalp, hard, but certainly not to hard. Stephen bowed his head, pulled down the straps of her nightgown, and flicked his tongue over each of her nipples.

"When are you leaving?" Celine asked. Stephen moved down between her legs and kissed the inside of her pale thighs. He kissed the spot where her leg met her body. Celine shivered and smiled.

"You tell me," Stephen mumbled. He stroked the outside of her thighs. Celine parted her knees more, opening herself, inviting him in, and Stephen could not help himself.

Watching Celine respond to his advances, wanting him this way, turned Stephen on in the worst of ways. When he moved between her thighs and began to tease his lips against her clit, Celine cried out and pulled his hair. It didn't take long before she had her knees hooked over his shoulders. His back was damp with her sweat.

Celine climaxed mere minutes later, her hand over her mouth to keep herself from screaming aloud. Stephen sat up and pushed her legs apart once more. He touched himself once, then leaned over and sunk himself into her.

"Stephen!" Celine exclaimed. Stephen moved his hands to her shoulders, bracing her as he started to thrust deeply. He couldn't imagine going slow, taking his time, not with Celine. The chair squeaked in protest. Valentine might have been able to hear them, but getting caught was half the fun.

"Oops," Stephen said. Celine giggled and pulled Stephen's face down to hers. They kissed passionately, biting one another's lips often. Stephen moaned and buried himself into her, forcing their bodies together, feeling them joining together.

When Stephen finally came, he cried out a curse word that echoed off the walls and bookshelves, then collapsed on top of Celine. Celine lifted her arms. Stephen thought she was going to push him away, but instead, she wrapped her arms around back and began to trace her fingers in circles over his skin.

"How was your night?" Celine asked. Stephen shook his head and kissed her neck.

"I don't want to talk about it," Stephen said. "Same time tomorrow?" Celine covered her eyes and laughed.

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><p>Early the next morning, Stephen woke up face down on the lounge chair, naked with his clothes thrown over his body. He got dressed and staggered out of the library only to encounter Valentine walking up from the basement.<p>

"How did you end up in the Library?" Valentine asked. "No one has used that room for years. There's an inch of dust covering everything." Stephen thought about the fire light and Celine beneath him. He shrugged. "It's a poor place for sleep."

"You have no idea," Stephen said.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Review it, please! Come on, it was smut! You must have an opinion on the smut! Review!<strong>  
><strong>Here is a teaser:<strong>

"How?" Robert asked. "How did Luke… come to die?"


	13. Chapter 13: Wayland Manor

**Author's Note: Thanks for all of the wonderful reviews! Please, keep them coming. Enjoy this chapter!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 13: Wayland Manor<br>_Three weeks later _**

When Stephen first moved into the Fairchild Manor, he was under the impression that his room was in a separate wing all by itself, while Jocelyn, Valentine, and Celine had a rooms closer to the steps leading down to the kitchen. It wasn't until the morning after the encounter in the library, when Stephen followed Celine upstairs from breakfast, that he discovered that the door to Celine's quarters was a mere 20 feet down the hall from his own. There was a time Stephen would have thought the arrangement was suspicious. Now, he just thought it was convenient.

It had been three weeks since that time in the library and Stephen had spent each and every one of those 21 nights sneaking into Celine's room as soon as Valentine had retired to his room. Every morning, Stephen snuck out. He sat across the table from Celine every morning at breakfast and tried to forget about what they did the night before. If Valentine noticed, he never said a word. Valentine was too busy taking Michael out hunting, as well as Robert and Hodge and the Pangborns, more than once. Valentine never took Stephen, which Stephen would have thought suspicious at one time. Now, Valentine leaving for six hours a few nights a week was convenient.

Stephen paced his bedroom, twirling a dagger in his hands. His body felt hot, his muscles tense. He had already taken a shower and shaved after spending half the day sleeping. Autumn had descended onto Idris, filling the days with gold toned sunlight and the nights cool and crisp. Stephen's bedroom was frigid. He should have built a fire in the fireplace, but he wasn't planning to spend the night in his bedroom.

At midnight, a clock downstairs began to chime. Stephen dropped the dagger onto his bed and walked out of the room. It was a full moon and Valentine had gone hunting with Michael and Robert. Stephen didn't need to sneak down the hallway, yet he did anyway, avoiding the creaky floor board beside one door, being careful not to trip over the rug a little further down. He arrived at Celine's door, turned the doorknob, and walked inside.

"You just had it last night," Celine said. "You can't need it again." Stephen gazed at Celine, who lay on her side in her large bed. She was dressed in red lingerie. He would have never thought lacy thongs and bustiers would have turned him on the way they did. Stephen's mouth went dry at the sight of red lace and so much cream colored skin. Celine was the sweetest addiction to have.

"I can't… I need it again," Stephen said. He crossed the room and crawled onto the bed. Stephen brushed a few locks of hair off of Celine's left shoulder and kissed her there. He placed another kiss at the base of her neck and continued to move his lips along her neck, all the way up to her ear lobe. He felt himself start to stiffen before Celine even laid her hands on him.

"You've had it every night for the past three weeks," Celine mumbled. She rested her palms just beneath his collar bones. Stephen tensed beneath her hands, then relaxed. He hadn't fought anyone or anything since that night in the prison and was beginning to feel agitated as a result. Luke had died a month ago, but all Valentine did was take others hunting for nothing more than demons. Valentine made Stephen want to hunt and kill, and was now leaving him out in the cold. If not for the sure fire release of being with Celine, Stephen might have lost his mind.

"I just want you," Stephen said. He kissed her lips and straddled her body. Celine pulled his shirt off and raked her nails down his spine. "Come on, Celine." He was imagining how hot it would be to fuck her without taking her lingerie off. That was the stuff of fantasies.

"No," Celine said. "Lay down on your stomach. I want to do something different." Stephen threw himself onto the bed. Celine opened a drawer in the bedside table and pulled out a bottle of massage oil. She drizzled some on to her hands, then straddled his legs as she began to knead her fingers into his tense muscles and bones.

"You beautiful fucking… goddess," Stephen groaned. Celine laughed.

"We should get to know one another, you know," she said.

"I'm Stephen," Stephen mumbled. "Stephen... William..."

"We've been sleeping together for three weeks. Do you have a plan for the future?" Celine asked.

"I was hoping to spend the night. I don't have any firewood and my room is cold since it faces the west," Stephen said. Celine gave up.

When she was finished massaging his back, Celine had Stephen roll onto his back. Then, she straddled his waist and began to massage his biceps, as well as the muscles across his chest.

"You think they would fade," Celine said. "Your runes, I mean."

"Not the permanent ones," Stephen said.

"Well, none of them really are permanent, are they?" Celine asked. "Some can be removed?" Stephen looked down to see her fingers lingering on the wedded union rune over his heart. They had been naked together every night for three weeks. Stephen had traced his lips over Celine's few runes, and she knew the location of each of his. They never discussed their runes, not before now, anyway.

"It's not like they would fade. I'm still…" Stephen began. "I'm still married, Celine. It's not official yet." Celine climbed from the bed and tossed Stephen his shirt. "What did you expect? That we would start fucking and I would suddenly be not married to her? That sex with you would render my marriage to Amatis null and void?"

"Well, it did, didn't it?" Celine asked. Stephen raised his eyebrows. He wasn't about to revisit the night he threw his whole marriage away. "I just wanted more than sex, you know that." Celine climbed back into bed and sat beside Stephen. "Tell me how you feel."

"Aroused," Stephen said.

"We've been making love for three weeks, and all you feel for me is arousal?" Celine asked.

Stephen was feeling other things for Celine, things he wasn't ready to admit, even to himself. He wasn't in love with her (but could, potentially, love her). That first time in the library had just been sex, and the second time in her room had been more sex, but the third time, Stephen found himself caring not just about the sex, but the part after the sex, where they lay together naked on the cool sheets and Stephen fit his body around Celine's. They fell asleep using the same pillow and moved together during the night, so that they each had a bit of skin touching the others. Sometimes, Stephen merely rested his chin on Celine's shoulder, and other times, he would open his eyes to find her hand on his stomach. It was always the same. At least, in sleep, they were together

"You can't expect me to answer that honestly," Stephen said.

"Then don't answer it at all," Celine said.

* * *

><p>After that, there was nothing left to say. Stephen was invited to stay but Celine seemed angry about something, and so he returned to his own cold bedroom, where he passed the night in a troubled sleep. Early the next morning, Stephen went downstairs and met Celine, Valentine, Jocelyn, and the Fairchilds in the kitchen. After the meal, Stephen went out to the barn to tend to Nicias. He groomed her, mane to tail, until her black coat gleamed impressively.<p>

"She's beautiful," Valentine said, walking into the barn.

"She's one of a kind," Stephen said. He was working a tangle out of Nicias's mane with a small comb. The task distracted Stephen from Valentine, who stood beside him. The Circle hadn't met since Luke's memorial. They would meet tonight at the Wayland Manor.

"Your mother is here," Valentine said. "Would you like to come up to the house?" Stephen looked up at the house and wondered what his mother must have been thinking, showing up here. There was no doubt as to why she had graced the threshold of Fairchild Manor.

"Have her come down to the pasture," Stephen said. He led Nicias outside and released her into a small, fenced in pasture. He saw Valentine walking up to the house, passing a woman dressed in a long, dark coat along the way.

Stephen was waiting beside the fence when Imogen walked up to him. Her hair, which was the same fair blond that Stephen's was now, had a tinge of grey to it. Imogen still retained the air of confidence she garnered during her time as head of the London Institute.

"Stephen," Imogen said.

"Mum," Stephen said. He kissed her on the cheek, then looked out into the pasture.

"Amatis wrote to your father and I," Imogen said. Stephen gripped the fence rail. Gossip spread like fire throughout Alicante; it would have only taken two solo trips to the grocery store for all of the town's people to realize that Amatis Herondale was living alone. Stephen planned to tell his parents about his divorce, but for Amatis to do it for him? That was humiliating and well deserved.

"Yes, mama," Stephen said.

"You're getting an… annulment?" Imogen asked. "You're invoking the six month rule? You do realize that you can't divorce and remarry every time you encounter difficulty in your marriage, correct? Once you're divorced, you can never go back to her."

"I don't want to go back," Stephen said. "It was a mistake, marrying her. She's better off without me."

"You love her," Imogen said. "I know your father never liked her, and I know… what with the baby… but you can work around that. There's no shame in adopting. Why, your great- great grandfather adopted a child, and your own father…" Marcus had to be adopted in order to be raised Herondale. Marcus saw shame in adopting for that reason.

"I just want a clean break. We married young and stupid, Amatis and I. It's better this way," Stephen said. "She's not the woman I remember marrying."

"We never are the people we were on our wedding days," Imogen said. "Maybe, Stephen, you were the one who changed."

"I cheated on her," Stephen said, "please don't tell Father. I just didn't want her anymore and I found someone else. Someone who could forgive me for my mistakes. And now, it's better this way. You can't convince me otherwise."

Imogen started to speak and stopped. She had always loved Amatis. On Stephen and Amatis's wedding day, when Amatis didn't have a mother to button her into her dress and fawn over her, Imogen was there, acting in her mother's place. When Stephen asked Amatis to marry him, Imogen was the second person Amatis told, after Luke. Imogen had three daughters, but she always held a special place in her heart for Amatis.

"There's no shame in trying until it works," Imogen said.

"It never will work," Stephen said. He felt his eyes fill with tears and knew why he avoided thinking about Amatis and all he'd left behind. When Stephen thought about leaving Amatis, his heart throbbed and his throat hurt. It was physically painful to think about Amatis. He thought he might get over it after three weeks of spending the night with Celine, but the pain never went away.

"You just keep in mind, you're welcome home anytime," Imogen said. "Don't worry about your father. I can handle him. We would be happy to have you back."

"I don't know what I'm going to do next," Stephen said. He saw a flash of brown and glanced up to see a tiny falcon flying overhead, trying it's wings out for the first time.

"You're still my son," Imogen said. She put an arm around Stephen and held him close. "No matter what you do, you are still my son."

* * *

><p>Later that night Stephen dressed in warm clothes and left the house with Jocelyn, Valentine, and Celine. Celine was carrying Jonathan in a sling across her chest, so Stephen didn't have a chance to get close to her. It was a short walk through the woods and over a hill to another estate.<p>

The Wayland Manor was a large white house, stacked high instead of long, with at least three floors and windows spaced neatly every few feet. Michael lived there with his parents, who were both avid supporters of the Circle.

"It's huge," Stephen said.

"They got it from a warlock family back in the 18th century, rumor has it," Celine said. "Spoils, you know."

"Spoils," Stephen said. He nodded. Celine used that word to mean so many different things. "Is something the matter?" Celine fixed the little hat Jonathan was wearing to keep his head warm. She seemed so at ease with a child, and even more with a child like Jonathan, who seemed to radiate tension. She would make a lovely mother.

"Nothing at all," Celine said.

"Well, I want to fix it," Stephen said. He wanted to say more but they had walked into Michael's backyard. A fire was lit and was surrounded with tables covered with food. Robert and Maryse were there, as was most everyone else. As usual, everyone greeted one another like family.

After a meal, Stephen sat between Michael and Celine by the fire as Valentine led the meeting. Stephen expected Valentine to finally divulge his plan for the Accords to everyone, but he didn't. Instead, Valentine discussed the demons he had killed with Hodge, Robert, Michael, and the Pangborns. Valentine seemed relaxed that evening and Stephen struggled to pay attention to him. He was instead distracted by the rune in the center of Celine's back, close to her neck. Stephen couldn't see what it was without seeing the whole rune, which made him want to see the whole rune, as well as Celine's long spine which ended in the cleft of her tight bottom…

"And now Michael is going to tell us why he and Stephen no longer work in the Gard," Valentine said. He sat down and Michael stood up.

"Stephen and I were working in the Prison. It was a typical night: we did our usual lock down, then, we had to feed the vampires their blood. I was carrying the box, Stephen was distributing," Michael said. "When we got to the last cell the vampire in it grabbed Stephen's hand, pulled him against the cell bars, and bit him on the wrist. Had I not been there… I shudder to think what might happen. It happened so fast. The vampire just… went crazy. Stephen could have died. I could have died… It could have been anyone, really. It was just…horrifying." Michael shivered and sat down beside Stephen.

"That's a perfect example of how volatile these Downworlders can be," Valentine said. He was shaking his head. "To bite the hand which was feeding it…" Stephen felt words sticking in his throat. He looked over at Michael, who only patted Stephen on the hand and gave him a reassured smile. Michael hadn't bothered to say that the vampire wing had been on edge before the attack even occurred, or that the vampire who attacked was Romulus Alabaster, who had been in prison for the past 40 years and wanted to die. Michael didn't even say that it was Stephen who stuck his hand beneath the bars of the cell. Michael told Valentine what Valentine wanted to hear. "And just look at what happened to Lucian."

Jocelyn lifted her head, looked at Stephen, and averted her eyes back to Jonathan. Her look was fleeting, but it told Stephen what she had said to him on the night of his Initiation: Stop him.

"What happened to Luke?" Stephen asked. "You never told us." Valentine stared at Stephen from across the fire. The flames licked up, distorting his face, but never his eyes. Stephen saw Valentine's eyes, cold, dark, glaring, all the way across the fire.

"You know what happened," Valentine said. "It was a werewolf. We went to talk with them. Things got out of hand."

"How?" Stephen asked. "You never told me how things got out of hand."

Robert was seated beside Valentine. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight. Robert had been friends with Luke in the way that a Lightwood had friends: they spoke often at parties. Luke dated Maryse before she married Robert, but that was a very long ago.

"How?" Robert asked. "How did Luke… come to die?" Valentine frowned at Stephen. Stephen knew he might pay dearly for this later but it was worth it, watching Valentine sweat.

"The werewolves claimed that we, The Circle, were violating the Accords. They had our names. They were going to turn us in," Valentine said. "One thing led to another. Words were exchanged. There were only three werewolves; Lucian and I could have handled them. I killed the first and started on the second, but in that time… Lucian was attacked and died soon after. I burned down the cabin we were at to destroy all evidence and came straight to Alicante, where I told Stephen and Amatis."

"Why didn't you bring someone else?" Robert asked. "I thought we agreed to hunt in groups of three."

"He was my parabatai," Valentine said. His eyes filled with tears. "We'd hunted together so many times before. I thought it might be… okay. Then, I lost him. We lost him." Stephen felt something twist in his heart. It wasn't anger, but perhaps heartbreak. Luke had died only four weeks ago. That wasn't enough time to move past a death like that.

Celine shivered beside Stephen. She lifted a hand to wipe a tear away. Stephen put his arm around her and pulled her into the warmth of his fleece coat. For a little while, everyone sat in silence, until a wolf somewhere far off began howling. Then Valentine climbed to his feet and tossed another log on the fire. Sparks floated into the sky, where they faded out one by one.

"I've learned of some awful news. There is a family of werewolves several miles from here who have been taking humans to feed on," Valentine whispered. "I've been observing them for several months. They are violating the Accords by killing innocent mundanes. From what we heard from Michael's story, there's no telling what these… creatures… could do. Perhaps, we should begin to avenge Lucian's death. It will do us no good to sit idle. We must act. My Circle, I ask you, no, I beg you, to stand with me as we begin our campaign of war against those who have killed our own. I want to kill these creatures and to make them suffer the way we have. Who's with me?"

Everyone's hands went up.

* * *

><p>After the meeting, everyone went to do what they usually did. The women went to tend to the children and talk quietly, while Stephen and Michael had a few beers and started talking about Shadowhunter Academy. Robert was a year older than Michael and hadn't gone to the same session as Michael, so he sat by, a pinched look on his face, as Michael recalled all of the boyish pranks he and Stephen pulled on everyone in their dorm.<p>

The moon was beginning to descend towards the horizon when Valentine told Stephen they were going home. They weren't walking for very long before Valentine told Celine and Jocelyn to go on ahead. Jocelyn told Valentine to behave, which caused Valentine to laugh haltingly. Stephen walked with Valentine in silence until he could no longer see Jocelyn or Celine.

"You were a bit out spoken at the meeting," Valentine said. Stephen nearly tripped over a tree root. He nodded. "I like that about you, son. You aren't afraid to ask questions."

"It wasn't the time or place to bring up Luke," Stephen said. "Forgive me." Valentine smiled.

"You must take me for a complete fool," he said.

"Beg pardon?"

"Do you really think I haven't noticed you going in and out of Celine's bedroom at all hours of the night? Do you think I not hear the bed scraping against the floor as you nail my sister every single night?" Valentine asked. He grabbed Stephen by the throat and slammed him against a tree.

"Nail?" Stephen gasped.

"Fuck," Valentine said. "I told you to keep your cock out of my sister and yet you fuck her every night." Valentine squeezed Stephen's throat tighter, and Stephen swore he might have wet himself. It was entirely possible. Oh, all of the times he giddily made love to Celine, and now this… Stephen couldn't decide whether or not he deserved this.

"Forgive me," Stephen managed.

"Are you in love with her?" Valentine asked.

"No," Stephen said. Valentine squeezed his neck tighter. "Yes." Valentine released Stephen, who collapsed onto his knees on the ground.

"The last guy didn't love her, not nearly enough, though he fucked her often as well," Valentine said. "I see how you are with her. You put an arm around her, keep her warm… you care about her. Right?"

"I care," Stephen said. He looked up to see Valentine towering over him.

"So you can appreciate that I care what you do with her. My sister isn't someone to fuck. She's a woman to love, to marry, and to have children with. Do you catch my drift?" Valentine asked. Stephen nodded. "I said, do you…?"

"Yes," Stephen said.

"So keep that in mind. If you plan to keep fucking my sister, perhaps you should marry her because if you get her pregnant before you marry her, I will kill you. Do you hear me?" Valentine asked.

"Loud and clear," Stephen said.

"Good boy," Valentine said. He patted Stephen on the head, then grabbed him by the arm and hoisted him to his feet.

* * *

><p>Once back at Fairchild Manor, Stephen took a long, hot shower. He thought about Celine, and tried to come up with the right words to say. He needed to break up with her, to end their torrid affair. They weren't going in the right direction, he and Celine. Stephen wanted sex and Celine wanted more than just sex.<p>

Then there was the thing that Valentine had suggested: that Stephen marry Celine. It was the perfect, fail proof plan: Stephen could divorce Amatis and marry Celine. There would be lots of sex, perhaps a grandchild or two to appease his parents. It could be a good marriage. Stephen had already married young and stupid once, there was nothing stopping him from doing it again. If it didn't work out, there was always the six month rule. Stephen could cheat or go insane or propose moving to Antarctica and he would be free and clear.

Once the water ran cold Stephen climbed out of the shower and dressed in his pajamas. He left the room, not bothering to sneak down the hall this time. Stephen pushed open the door to Celine's room to find it lit with candle light.

Celine looked up from her seat on the bed. There were a few crumpled tissues around her, and across her lap lay a calendar, which was odd. Most Shadowhunters told the passing of days with moon cycles and half of the time Stephen didn't know what day it was. He knelt beside the bed to see Celine's eyes filled with tears.

"Why are you crying?" Stephen asked.

"I'm late," Celine replied.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Thanks for reading! What do you think? Please review! <strong>


	14. Chapter 14: Mea Culpa

**Author's Note: Thanks to my one fearless reader who reviewed the last chapter and let me know what she thought about it. I appreciate the feedback and I would LOVE it if you, who are reading this now, would leave some feedback. As always, please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14: Mea Culpa<strong>

"Wait, what?" Stephen asked.

"I'm late. My period is late," Celine said. "It means that-"

"I know what that means!" Stephen exclaimed. He knew far too much about the cycles of women, having grown up with three sisters who were unbearable at the same time, every month. "How did this happen? I wore a condom every time." He might have been having sex with Celine every chance he got, but Stephen knew he wasn't being stupid about it. He did everything possible to prevent this.

"Not that time in the library," Celine said.

"Oh, one fucking time!" Stephen exclaimed.

"It only takes one time," Celine said. "Maybe I'm not pregnant. Maybe it's something different." Stephen felt his chest start to hurt. His eyes got hot, a sure sign he was going to cry, which was so stupid, because he wasn't about to cry over this.

"It's not mine," Stephen said. "You said it yourself. I wasn't the first Circle member you patched up. And Luke… you were all over him, long before I was in the Circle. If you're pregnant, it's not mine."

"Stephen, how could you say…?" Celine began.

"It's not mine!" Stephen said, louder this time. "All you've wanted is to get pregnant so I would have to be with you. Yes, Celine, I think you did want to break Amatis and I up, because without a husband, you are nothing."

"Do you think this is easy on me?" Celine cried. "Do you think I want to be knocked up with your child? You're still married!"

"For another five days. I bet you've been keeping count," Stephen said. "You better figure out what you're going to do about this, because I'm not having a baby with you. You are the last person I would have a baby with."

"You would really just walk away from me? After everything?" Celine asked.

"Everything?" Stephen laughed. "What reason have you given me to stay? You've probably fucked half the Circle. Why would I want to have a baby with you?"

"Because I love you," Celine said desperately.

"I don't feel the same," Stephen said. "I'm leaving now. Come up with a plan. We'll take care of this in the morning."

Stephen didn't bother waiting to hear what else Celine had to say. Instead, he left her room, went downstairs, and walked out the front door. He wasn't wearing shoes, not it that mattered. Stephen walked into the woods and kept walking. He staggered over tree roots and slammed into branches before he saw an orange light flickering through the trees. High above, wind whipped through the trees and brought with it a cold spray of rain.

The bonfire at the Wayland Manor had burned down to a small fire. There were two figures huddled beside it beneath a blanket. Stephen walked over and looked down to see a dagger lying on the ground, reflecting orange flames. Whoever was beneath the blanket was throwing caution to the wind.

"Michael?" Stephen asked. Stephen heard a few mumbled curses before the blanket was tossed aside. Michael lifted his head.

"Christ, Stephen, you can't sneak up on us like that!" He exclaimed.

"You said I could show up at your manor, any time, day or night, so… I had to," Stephen said. "I need to talk to you."

"What about?" Michael asked, a bit impatient. The rain started to come down harder.

"I got Celine pregnant," Stephen said.

A quiet laugh came from beneath the blanket. The laugh became louder and more gleeful. Michael shook his head and uncovered Robert, who fell onto his side, curled into a ball, and laughed until he coughed and choked.

"Oh, Herondale, that just beats all," Robert said. "You got one girl pregnant… while you're married to another one… and you quit your job, your parents hate you…"

"Fuck you," Michael said. Robert stopped laughing. "Go home. Stephen's my friend and I care about him. If you were half as loyal to the Circle as you say you are, you would care about him to. You ask why things aren't the same between us anymore? This is why."

"He cheated on his wife and you're taking his side?" Robert asked.

"Yes, Robert, I am," Michael said. He stood up, pulling the blanket away from Robert, and wrapped it around Stephen's shoulders as the rain started to come down in fat drops. Michael put an arm around Stephen's waist and guided him towards the house. They went inside, to the kitchen, where Michael prepared tea. Upstairs, a baby started to cry.

"Do you need to get him?" Stephen asked.

"No, Josie can handle it," Michael said. He offered Stephen a cup of tea, which Stephen accepted. "So… how do know Celine is pregnant?"

"She said she was late," Stephen said.

"That doesn't mean-" Michael began.

"I was careful, except for one time…. Three weeks ago," Stephens said. "I don't want this. I was going to have a child, and then he died, and I don't want another one. Not right not now, maybe not ever."

"Do you think Celine was with someone else?" Michael asked.

"You tell me," Stephen said. He looked into Michael's eyes, not sure he wanted to know the truth.

"I was never with her," Michael said. "She never even offered. She was only friendly with Luke. No one else would dare to touch her. She's Valentine's sister, after all, and he told us once that his sister was off limits."

"Yeah, he told me that to," Stephen said. He thought back to the encounter in the Library, and tried to figure out what made him want Celine that night. Perhaps, he'd been lonely, distraught, on the rebound. Valentine's order that Stephen keep away from his sister made Stephen only want her more. Now, Stephen looked back over the last three weeks and felt foolish.

"There are worse girls to have babies with," Michael said. He rested his hand on top of Stephen's. "Celine could make you happy. She would be a wonderful wife."

"I don't want her," Stephen said. "I don't want a baby with her. I want…" He wished for the life he had before, when he was married to Amatis and she was going to give him a son and they had a future to look forward to, together.

"Wait here," Michael said. He stood up and left the room, returning after a few minutes with a small box. "This is a pregnancy test. Mundanes use them all the time. Just have Celine follow the instructions, and then… you'll know if she's pregnant or not." Stephen knew about pregnancy tests. A week before their wedding, Amatis had taken one. When it back back positive, she had leapt into his arms and the celebrated. Stephen was terrified, and yet, excited, because if he ha to have a child, he wanted to have one with Amatis.

"You can't tell anyone," Stephen whispered. "If it's negative, that's it. I'm done with her."

"And if it's positive?" Michael asked.

"I'll marry her," Stephen said.

* * *

><p>It was nearly dawn when Stephen finally staggered home, now wearing a pair of boots borrowed from Michael. He went upstairs to Celine's room and put the pregnancy test on the bedside table along with a note that told her to follow the instructions. Stephen climbed into bed beside her, not waiting to touch her, but wanting her to know he was there, that he might have walked away before, but that he did come back.<p>

Stephen woke up again sometime later to find Celine turning the pregnancy test box over in her hands. She was staring out into the bedroom, looking near tears. Whether they were tears of happiness or sadness, Stephen was not sure. He took her hand and held it.

"You're supposed to take that, and we'll deal with it, depending on the result," Stephen said.

"I'm not pregnant," Celine said. "I found out earlier. I started… I'm not pregnant."

"Oh," Stephen said. "Oh, okay." He smiled, feeling relieved. Now, his life could continue on his terms and not Celine's.

"You're right, by the way. You cheated on your wife. You are the last man I would ever have a child with," Celine said.

* * *

><p>Two nights later, Stephen dressed in his fighting gear. Valentine had put together a group of Circle members who would go to investigate the family of werewolves who were rumored to be killing humans. Stephen was itching to get out of the manor, as it had been a quiet few days. Celine hadn't sought Stephen out, but she hadn't ignored him either. Stephen had taken over her secret spot in the library, and the one time she did show up to find him already there, she left without saying a word. If Valentine knew something was going on between Stephen and Celine, he had to know that something was now over.<p>

Stephen told Michael that if Celine wasn't pregnant, he would end things with her, but saying that and doing that were two different things. Valentine was always somewhere else in the house, working on something, and Jocelyn was busy with her parents and the baby. Without Celine to talk to, Stephen was left to his own thoughts. He found himself lonely and missed spending time with Celine, if only to have someone to spend time with.

Stephen finished getting dressed, then turned to his trunk of weapons in the corner of the room. There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Stephen said. Celine walked in, carrying a tea cup.

"For energy," Celine said, offering Stephen the cup. He took it and drank all of the liquid inside, then handed it back to Celine. She bit her lower lip and looked him up and down as Stephen turned back to the trunk.

Stephen was dressed in his black pants, his boots already tied, and was currently working on filling his weapons belt. His shirt was new, another gift from Valentine. The material was strong like leather but moved like cotton. He didn't feel overly hot like he did in his old gear. There was something to be said for how he looked in the gear… not half bad. He was a mixture of lights and darks, black gear and fair hair and pale biceps marked wrist to shoulder with black swirling combat runes.

"Are you going to be alright?" Stephen asked.

"Am I going to be alright while you go meet with the werewolves?" Celine asked. "I'll manage, I'm sure."

"I mean, are you going to be alright with the whole…" Stephen looked down at his feet. "The baby thing, I mean."

"It's not that I don't want a baby, or even one with you. I just don't want one right now. Not when you aren't even divorced," Celine said. She rested her hands on his shoulders. "We made mistakes together. It doesn't mean we can't move past those mistakes. Maybe, after you're divorced… we could try being together. We could take things slow."

"I like that idea," Stephen said. "That's… perfect."

"Perfect," Celine said. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips to Stephen's. Stephen parted his lips and returned the kiss.

"I'll wait for you but not forever," Valentine said. Stephen pulled away from Celine, blood rushing to his face. Valentine was standing at the door to Stephen's room, looking huge and imposing in his gear.

"Be right there," Stephen said. Valentine rolled his eyes and walked away.

"Be careful tonight, alright?" Celine rested her hands on Stephen's chest. He was wearing two layers of gear but could still feel her touch against his skin.

"I'll be safe. I'll come home," Stephen said.

"Don't promise things you don't know for certain," Celine said. She kissed him again, and shoved him towards the door.

Valentine was waiting just outside the door. He gave Stephen a rueful smile.

"I told you to keep away from her," Valentine said.

"Forgive me," Stephen said.

"I can't really blame you. Your father told you not to join the Circle and so you did. I told you to keep your cock out of Celine and you didn't. I don't know why I waste my breath," Valentine said. "You're a Herondale. You'll do something stupid just because you can."

"My fault," Stephen mumbled. "My most grievous fault."

Everyone who would be going on the mission was already gathered outside the manor. Robert was talking to Michael, their argument seemingly forgotten. Hodge was there as well.

"Oh, hey, Robert!" Stephen said excitedly. Robert frowned. "Wow. Look at that big sword! That's got to be 20 inches, easy!" Robert had a sword held diagonal across his back in a leather strap.

"Twenty four," Robert said smugly. He shrugged.

"You know what they say about men who use big swords, right?" Stephen asked.

"They know how to use them properly?" Robert said.

"It's not the size of the sword that matters, but rather, the ability of the man who wields it," Hodge said. Michael snorted.

"What do they say about men who use big swords, Stephen?" Robert asked.

"Yes, what do they say?" Valentine asked. He folded his arms and waited, patiently. Even Michael was waiting for Stephen's response with a smirk on his face.

"Men who use large swords are often overcompensating for… something," Stephen said. Robert looked over at Michael and raised his eyebrows.

"So why aren't you overcompensating for something?" Valentine asked. "From what I've heard about Herondales, all you do is over compensate for your… shortcomings." Everyone laughed aloud.

"Not according to your sister," Stephen said. The laughter stopped quite suddenly. Valentine stared at Stephen, his eyes boring into Stephen's soul.

"Sometime in the future you are going to wonder why I picked you to be my second in command. This is why. You're not afraid of me. I didn't want someone who told me what I wanted to hear," Valentine said. "I needed an equal."

"He's hardly an equal," Robert said. "He's inexperienced, for one. He's-"

"He's exactly what I need," Valentine said. He glared at Robert. "There is no one better to avenge Lucian's death. If there is anyone who understands my pain over Lucian's death, it's Stephen. I won't have you causing any rifts, Lightwood. Stephen is my second in command. Now are you with us, or against us?"

"I'm with you," Robert said, bowing his head.

"That's what I thought," Valentine said.

* * *

><p>They mounted their horses and set off. The moon was nearly full, with just a sliver of it missing. The air was cold and damp from a rainstorm the night before. Stephen rode beside Valentine, with Michael and Robert behind him and Hodge bringing up the rear.<p>

"Just over this hill," Valentine mumbled, after they had been riding for some time. "Now remember, we're not going to start anything. We are only here to talk." Stephen had his doubts. Earlier in the day, Valentine told Stephen to arm himself to the teeth, and Stephen complied. His fingers twitched on the reins, imagining what it would be like to slaughter the creatures that killed Luke and made Amatis cry as a result.

Their destination was a small cabin surrounded by several small tents. There was a fire burning outside, with no one around. Stephen couldn't help but feel like they were ambushing the werewolves, despite none of this being illegal. It was the Clave's job to patrol the Idris countryside and look into matters like this.

Stephen followed Valentine onto the front porch of the cabin while Robert, Michael, and Hodge stayed with the horses. Valentine knocked on the door.

"Who's here?" A voice called.

"Representatives from the Clave," Valentine replied. The door opened and a woman peered out. She reminded Stephen of someone's grandmother and dressed like one as well.

"Shadowhunters," the woman said. "Why are you here?"

"We've come to take a look around. There are rumors that you've been killing humans," Valentine said. The woman looked him over, then turned her eyes to Stephen.

"Rumors are just that. Rumors," she said.

"There's a bit of truth in every rumor," Valentine said.

"We don't mean any trouble," Stephen said. "We just want to take a look around. You don't want to refuse us, madam. That could mean a whole lot of trouble for you." The woman frowned, then pulled open the door the rest of the way. Valentine gave Stephen a wink before walking inside.

The cabin contained six other people, two children, and two men, and two women. Stephen saw werewolves before, either in human or animal form. These people seemed unremarkable. If not for the hunk of meat cooking on a spit over the fire, or the moist smell of dog, Stephen would have assumed they were just regular humans.

"So you have heard rumors?" Valentine asked. He came close to a table set with plates and silverware.

"I've heard rumors about a certain splinter group of Shadowhunters who are looking to do away with the Accords. I've heard they've even killed Downworlders who are forced to violate the Accords. In fact, there's talk all over Downworld that these are more than just rumors," the woman said. "What have you heard?"

"I heard you've been killing humans," Valentine said. "That does more than violate the Accords, you know. You're forbidden from attacking mundanes."

"That's why we don't attack mundanes," the woman said.

"Be certain to check the fire, Stephen," Valentine said. "If we find nothing, we'll never speak of this encounter. You just have to understand, we have a job to do."

Stephen walked over to the fireplace and knelt beside it. He took a fireplace poker and moved some ash around. There was something tiny and bright in the ashes. Stephen held it up to show Valentine a beaded bracelet, like something a little girl would wear. Valentine shrugged, so Stephen moved the ashes around some more and found something hard, almost wooden.

"There's a bone," Stephen said.

"We cook over the fire," the woman said. Stephen lifted the bone to show that it was a bit shorter than his arm, with a joint at either end.

"That's human," Valentine said. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"

This time, Stephen was prepared for the attack. One of the men closest to Stephen shifted from man to wolf and lunged at Stephen, slamming him into the mantle. The cabin door flew open as the Shadowhunters rushed in, seraph blades glowing. The remaining humans quickly shifted into wolves and each chose someone to fight. Stephen saw the first wolf die by Valentine's sword, and in that time, he managed to get free from his wolf and go back to back with Robert as they fought two others. Michael killed another wolf but he was bleeding from a wound on his arm and hurried outside to keep out of the way.

Without Michael, they were at a disadvantage. Working together, Robert and Stephen managed to kill two other wolves, leaving them four against three until Hodge took a set of claws to his face. Stephen looked away, lest he see Hodge's skin torn from his skull. He focused instead on the doorway which was now blocked by a man who was wearing boots and a pair of black pants. Scanning up, Stephen saw a flannel shirt, and…. Luke?

"Stephen!" Robert cried. Stephen turned to Robert as another werewolf smashed it's paws into his chest. Stephen cracked the back of his head on a table and landed flat on his back, choking on blood. The werewolf stepped over him and bared it's teeth. Stephen closed his eyes and thought about how he deserved to die this way. When death did not come, Stephen opened his eyes just as Robert pulled his 24 inch sword from the holder across his back. The blade sunk into the werewolf, killing it in an instant.

* * *

><p>When Stephen opened his eyes again, he found himself in Michael's arms. He barely had a chance to look up into Michael's face, to see his blue eyes and innocent face colored orange in the light of a fire before liquid was poured into his mouth. Stephen coughed and sputtered, choking. A hand moved over his mouth, keeping it closed.<p>

"Swallow," Valentine said. Stephen swallowed. When Valentine pulled his hand away, it was covered with blood. "Well, that could have gone better." Stephen laid his head against Michael's chest and gasped a few times. He opened his eyes and focused on the burning cabin, which was sending flames twenty feet into the sky.

"What happened?" Stephen asked.

"Robert saved you," Michael said gratefully. Stephen groaned.

"That's all I need, to owe my life to a fucking Lightwood," Stephen said. "You should have let me be torn limb from limb…"

"I didn't save you for me," Robert snapped. Michael ran his hands through Stephen's blood dampened hair.

"I saw Luke… he was… there," Stephen pointed to the cabin. "Where did he go?"

"The poor boy," Valentine whispered. "He's incoherent." Everyone's voices were starting to seem far away. Stephen closed his eyes and relaxed against Michael's trembling body.

"I can't believe we were right," Michael said.

"Of course we were right," Valentine said. "Let's go." Michael pulled Stephen to his feet. Stephen's mind felt muddled. His skin was stinging where several healing runes had been applied. Michael had to help Stephen onto his horse, and then led Nicias all the way back to Fairchild Manor.

The manor was ablaze with light when they rode up. Celine was on the front porch, dressed in a robe. She hurried down the front steps just as Stephen climbed off Nicias. The earth tipped beneath Stephen's feet and he fell into Michael's arms.

"What happened?" Celine demanded.

"He cracked his skull on a table," Valentine said. "Let him go, Michael. Stephen needs to go to Celine." The moment Michael stepped away, Stephen fell against Celine. He wrapped his arms around her and held her body against his. She felt warm and alive in his arms.

"I'm so sorry about before. I'll never leave you," Stephen said. "I love you. I love you so much."

"I love you to," Celine said.

"Be sure to patch him up, my dear," Valentine said. His voice sounded smug. "Take very good care of him. He belongs to you now."

Stephen went upstairs, leaning heavily on Celine. They went to his room, where Stephen tried to unbuckle his weapons belt before Celine dropped it to the floor. She pushed him into the bathroom, lifted one shirt over his head, and followed that shirt with his blood and sweat soaked undershirt. Stephen's head was spinning in circles. He had to grasp Celine's waist just to keep upright. Celine removed his pants and boots last, then pushed Stephen into the shower and climbed in after him, supporting him as hot water rained down on them. There was nothing sexual about it. Stephen's body felt ripped into pieces and Celine was the only one who could put him back together.

When the shower was finished, Stephen fell into bed completely naked. He woke up some time later, his mind feeling less scrambled, to find Celine sound asleep beside him. Stephen saw a theme: whenever he needed Celine, she was there. He could learn to love that quality in her.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Thanks for reading! No teaser, as the next chapter is sort of in shambles. Please review. I could really use the encouragement.<strong>


	15. Chapter 15: The Matrimonial Chapel

**Author's Note: If there is one chapter I desperately want your thoughts on, it's this one, so please, review! Let me know what you think! As always: many thanks to everyone who did review, and thank you to the rest of you who check out every chapter. Please enjoy this chapter!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 15: The Matrimonial Chapel<strong>

Sometime during the night, Stephen awoke to feel aching bruises simmering beneath his skin. Celine was sound asleep in bed, dressed in a soft night gown. Stephen rolled over, nearly on top of her, and buried his face in her neck. He pushed her nightgown up around her waist, and rested his hips against hers, feeling the coolness of her lower body against his hot skin. Celine gasped and rubbed her cheek against his. Her breath hit his ear and then he was hard for her, with no further foreplay required. Stephen wasn't sure what to say, be it "Can I?" or "Should we?" Celine parted her knees and brought them up around his waist. She took his face and kissed his lips and he didn't bother to ask her anything at all.

Stephen reached into the bedside table drawer, fumbled around, and came up with a condom. He ripped open the package and slid it on, then pressed into her. Celine gasped and dug her nails into his back. There was pain and pleasure and heat between them that burned his skin. Being with Celine hurt Stephen's body in that moment, and yet he felt more alive than he felt battling the werewolves. Stephen lifted his head and kissed Celine, his whole body shivering with pain and something else. Their bodies moved together against the sheets, until the heat became too much to bear. Then Stephen's body released all of his pain in one hard, shuddering orgasm, and after that, there was nothing.

Stephen only felt Celine's hands on him, one down on his lower back, rubbing circles at the base of his spine, the other moving gently over the bruises on his upper back. In that moment, Stephen's entire world became tiny: there were no werewolves to fight and vampires to kill and wives to turn into ex-wives, there was only Stephen and Celine together and that was all Stephen wanted and needed.

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><p>Early the next morning, Stephen awoke to find the bed empty. He staggered into the bathroom to take stock of his appearance: there were still bruises all over his skin, some still black and blue, others already faded to yellow discolorations. The healing runes could only do so much; Stephen was still mortal and would still heal as a mortal did. He climbed into the shower and washed more blood from his hair, then dressed and came downstairs.<p>

Celine stood at the stove, cooking breakfast. Valentine was sitting at the kitchen table holding Jonathan in his arms. This morning, the baby was grinning deliriously as he giggled at the various noises and facial expressions Valentine made. Whenever Jonathan was in Jocelyn's arms, he either scowled or hinted at crying, though he never did actually cry. With Valentine, Jonathan was a completely different baby. Most babies had characteristics from both their parents, however, it seemed as though Jonathan belonged to Valentine only.

Jocelyn was missing from the kitchen, as were her parents. Michael was sitting in her place at the table, dressed prim and proper, his arm in a sling as he sipped tea. Today, Stephen was going to meet Amatis in the Silent City to finalize their divorce. Michael would come along for support.

"You can still back out, you know," Michael said. Thirty days ago, Stephen thought, yes, he could back out. Amatis might forgive him for cheating, she might not, but they didn't have to end their marriage over it. Now, he couldn't imagine going back to Amatis and pretending that the last two months hadn't happened.

"I just want it over with," Stephen said.

* * *

><p>After the meal, Stephen saddled Nicias and rode with Michael into Alicante. They left their horses at a stable and walked to the Accords Hall, where there was an entrance to the Silent City. Michael barely spoke, not that Stephen expected him to. It was nice to have someone along, to have his back. Michael didn't have to speak. Like Celine, Michael was there, and that was all that mattered.<p>

Stephen tried not to think about the last time he and Michael had come to the Accords Hall. Fortunately, they didn't have to go anywhere near the room where the Mortal Cup was held. Instead, they walked down two flights of stairs which brought them, abruptly, to the entrance to the Silent City. Michael went to a Silent Brother, explained their business, and they were shown to a corridor lit with candles and witch light.

There was a large iron door at the very end of the corridor, which led to the Matrimonial Chapel. Some Shadowhunters didn't have a place to get married (or didn't want to plan a wedding) and instead were married by a Silent Brother in the same room where the record of their marriages was kept. The day after Stephen and Amatis got married, they had come to the Matrimonial Chapel to register their marriage. They had been so hopeful the day after their wedding, as if happiness would always be in their grasp. By contrast, this day had an air of hopelessness.

Amatis was standing at the end of the corridor. She looked up and noticed Stephen, then turned away.

"I'll be right here," Michael said. He touched Stephen on the arm. Stephen gave him a sad smile, and then walked down to Amatis, all the while trying to decide what to say.

Amatis appeared stronger than she had been that day in Market Square. At some point, perhaps last night, she must have cried, because her eyes were bloodshot. She held herself with wavering confidence. Stephen was afraid of saying anything, for fear of cracking through the armor she'd constructed around herself for this day. He didn't want to hurt her any more than he already had.

"Thank you for coming," Stephen whispered.

"You gave me no choice," Amatis said. "So this is it, then? This is how it's going to end? You cheated on me, you betrayed me… you pledged your loyalty to the people who killed our child and my own brother…"

"Amatis," Stephen said.

"Just answer me this. Will any of that be worth it, in the end?" Amatis asked.

"Stephen and Amatis Herondale?" A voice called. Stephen grabbed Amatis by the wrist and pulled her into the Matrimonial Chapel, which was not unlike the room where the Mortal Cup had been held. Benches ran parallel either side of the Chapel, with an aisle down the middle. The walls were covered with shelves of candles. In the front of the room hung a tapestry depicting the Angel. Two Silent Brothers sat in front of the tapestry, a large book spread out on the altar before them. A pungent bouquet, left behind from someone else's wedding, lay on the altar as well.

Stephen approached the altar with Amatis at his side. It reminded Stephen of the last time he and Amatis had stood in this very room, side by side, looking forward to their future. It was funny how everything always seemed to come full circle.

"What can we help you with?" One of the brothers asked. Amatis stepped away from Stephen and folded her arms across her chest as she stared at Stephen.

"We've come to seek an annulment for our marriage," Stephen said. "We married four months ago, and, unfortunately, it's not going to work out."

"Did you even try?" The Brother asked. "Marriage can be difficult, young Herondale. You can't just give up when the going gets tough."

"I'm not giving up," Stephen said. "I was unfaithful. Current events have made it clear that I am unfit to be Amatis's husband. It was a mistake for me to marry her."

"A mistake?" The Brother asked. "You made a mistake?"

"I made a mistake," Stephen said.

"Some mistakes can be forgiven," The Brother said. Stephen clenched his jaw and looked at the Brothers, not daring to break concentration.

"This one cannot," Amatis said. "Please, grant us an annulment."

The Brother's turned to one another, seeming to confer in complete silence. For a second, Stephen could only feel the breath in his lungs, wishing to escape. He was holding his breath, as he had been since his Initiation, since the first time something came between he and Amatis.

"Very well," The Brother said. He lifted a quill and crossed out their names in the book, then pulled out a sharp knife and rested it on the table. "Your marriage is no longer recognized by the Clave. There is simply a matter of the runes which still adorn your skin. You must have the runes disfigured so that they are deactivated. Should you wish to remarry, the runes will need to be stripped away with acid, but that is for another time, and another place. Who's first?"

Amatis stepped forward. The Brother lifted the knife and sliced length wise across the rune of her arm, then horizontal on the rune across her chest. Amatis gasped and covered the wound on her chest with her hand. Blood dripped between her fingers.

Stephen stepped forward then. He felt the knife move across his arm, barely biting into his flesh, and then watched as the knife tip pierced his chest and tore the skin open in one smooth, even slice. Stephen felt the rune deactivate, as if there was a tie between he and Amatis that had been stretched thin until it snapped and would never go together again. Stephen grabbed his stele and drew a rune to slow his bleeding and turned to Amatis, offering her the stele, only to find her nearly hysterical.

"Amatis, I'm-" Stephen began. Amatis fled from the room.

* * *

><p>Stephen and Michael arrived back at Fairchild Manor that afternoon. Stephen went straight to his room, wanting to be alone. He slept through dinner and breakfast the next morning, and finally woke up to the clatter of plates as Celine carried a tray of food into the room. Celine, who could have used this opportunity to be the only person Stephen wanted, instead kept away, until now.<p>

"You're awake," Celine said. "I made some soup for lunch, along with some bread." Stephen sat up and Celine put a pillow behind him. He knew it was silly to lie in bed when he wasn't ill, but he didn't want to get out of bed either. He refused to admit he was heartbroken over the demise of his marriage, however… he was heartbroken.

"Thank you," Stephen said. He took the bowl of soup from Celine and began to eat as Celine busied herself with the laundry piled in the corner of the room. She was suddenly regarding him with cool indifference, whereas before, they shared a feeling of barely contained lust whenever they were alone together. "Celine… you aren't angry that I got divorced, are you?"

"I'm only angry that you blamed me for it," Celine said. She looked at the door, then walked over to the bed and sat down, leaning close to Stephen. "You must know, I never wanted to break up your marriage. No one was meant to get hurt."

"I know," Stephen replied. He touched a few silky strands of her hair and twisted it around his fingers. "It was wrong of me to blame you for what happened. I fear Amatis and I weren't built for the long haul. Perhaps, there's something to be said for not marrying your first love. I loved her… just not enough."

"I'm sorry all the same," Celine said.

"You know… about before…" Stephen began.

"We can put it in the past," Celine said. "None of it ever happened." Stephen thought it would be nice to nullify all of the past mistakes he felt guilty before. Even Amatis weighed on his conscious, though he tried to push the thought of her away in the interest of moving on. Now, there was a beautiful girl in his bed who was devoted to his happiness. Celine was always there, always.

"None of it ever happened," Stephen said. He rested a hand on her jaw and kissed her lips gently. "How, then, shall we begin again?"

* * *

><p>Once Stephen climbed out of bed, he found himself feeling better than he had in weeks. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders and the cloud of guilt and doom was gone. He knew he should have spent time mourning his marriage, but it was impossible to mourn when Celine was always there to make him happy.<p>

Stephen spent the next week spending as much time with Celine as possible. They spent every day together in forgotten corners of the manor house, and every night together as well. Sex was suddenly not as important as falling asleep in one another's arms and waking up the same way the next morning.

One morning Stephen met Valentine for tea on the back patio. When Celine called them inside, Stephen walked in and caught a glimpse of Celine beside the stove. She was covered with flour and powdered sugar from cooking strawberry waffles, which were Stephen's favorite breakfast. Celine dropped a waffle onto a plate, then looked up and smiled at Stephen. It was a simple expression, but Stephen felt his cheeks turn red at the same time his heart pounded just a little harder. Stephen bit his lower lip and wondered what would happen if he walked over to the stove, took Celine in his arms, and kissed her, not caring at all what her brother thought.

"Go on," Valentine said exasperatedly, "Do what you want. You will anyway, with or without my consent."

Stephen crossed the kitchen, took Celine's hands, and rested them on his waist. He leaned down and kissed her gently, just once, on the lips.

"I'm sorry," Stephen whispered, looking into Celine's eyes.

"There's no need to apologize," Valentine said. "You're allowed to fall in love with whomever you want. You are in love, right?"

"If what I'm feeling is love, I never want it to leave me," Stephen said. "I'm in love with your sister and there is nothing you can do about it." He kissed Celine again as Valentine clapped his hands and laughed.

After breakfast, Stephen invited Celine to take a walk with him around the lake. The day stretched out before them as everyday spent with Celine always did, full of possibility. They could ride their horses to Alicante to walk around Market Square, sampling all sorts of cuisine. They could go to the woods, get lost, and come home at sundown, starving and satisfied all at the same time. Or, they could walk around the lake, holding hands and getting to know one another.

"So do you remember when we said we would take things slow?" Stephen asked. He had his fingers intertwined with Celine's as they approached the fire pit they kissed at the night of Luke's memorial.

"We haven't been doing much of that," Celine said. "What with breakfast, and…" They had been moving full speed ahead, even in the bedroom. Stephen couldn't fall asleep unless he had Celine in his arms.

"It's just that…when I thought you were pregnant, I had to think seriously about us," Stephen said. "I told myself if you were pregnant I would marry you and if you weren't… we were done with. And yet…" Stephen lifted their hands. "I can't seem to get away from you! Do you think… no…"

"What?" Celine asked.

"Do you think, perhaps, this was supposed to happen?" Stephen asked. "We were fated to meet, like two star crossed lovers…" Celine laughed. "Really, Celine. I was at my saddest and you were there to make me smile. I was in pain and you made me not hurt. I was lost and you have been my safe haven." Celine rolled her eyes.

"You give yourself not credit," She said. They got to the fire pit and stopped.

"I'm lucky to have you," Stephen said. "Sometimes, I think… I don't know how I could survive without you."

"You don't have to worry about that," Celine mumbled. She reached up and touched his face, running her fingers over the stubble lightly covering his jaws. "I'll always be with you, until you don't want me with you anymore."

"That will never happen," Stephen said quickly. "I mean… I don't want you to go anywhere. I want you to stay with me."

"So I'll stay," Celine said. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his lips, then ran a hand down his chest. She turned away and tried pulling him after her.

Stephen stayed rooted in one spot, unable to think, or do anything. He thought he might open his mouth and never speak again, or, he would open his mouth and never stop talking again.

"Marry me," Stephen said.

Celine turned around; her eyes wide, her mouth open in shock. Stephen's expression matched hers as he wondered where those words came from. He had gotten divorced a whole seven days before. To be considering marriage, now, was madness.

"Okay," Celine gasped. "I mean…If you… Do you…?"

"Yes," Stephen said. He nodded quickly and fell to his knees before her. "Will you marry me?"

"YES!" Celine screamed. "Yes, I'll marry you!"

* * *

><p>They returned to the house soon after to formally announce their engagement. Valentine was beside himself and even shed a tear of joy, while Jocelyn managed to fake her happiness quite convincingly. Jocelyn had been friends with Amatis and hadn't spoken to Stephen since the annulment. Stephen doubted she would be happy about him remarrying so quickly.<p>

"So, when's the wedding?" Valentine asked.

"Perhaps in the spring," Stephen replied. "I was hoping to have a long engagement… this time around."

"What's stopping you from getting married now?" Valentine asked. "You want a small wedding, right? Why don't we plan a get together, say, three weeks from now? That's enough time to put together a little something."

"Oh, Stephen, please?" Celine asked. She was clutching his arm, as she had since he asked that stupid, infernal question. "Look at it outside. In a few weeks the leaves will be all red and orange… I've always wanted to get married in the fall."

"I don't really think…" Stephen began. "It's so soon… I don't want to rush into anything."

"Of course, I understand," Celine said quickly. She let go of his hand. "We can wait until February or March or even, perhaps, April. I want you to be comfortable." She was being so sweet and loving, so understanding, Stephen felt selfish for wanting to put off the wedding. Celine had agreed to marry him, which meant she wanted to get married quickly.

Stephen looked outside. He couldn't have picked a better autumn day to get engaged. The sun was shining brightly and some of the trees were starting to turn yellow and orange. The color for Shadowhunter weddings was gold, which Celine would wear, while Stephen would be expected to wear dress gear, or even a nice suit. He'd worn a tuxedo for he and Amatis's wedding, while Amatis wore a light gold dress made of satin. She'd carried daisies. Their wedding day was possibly the happiest day of Stephen's life.

"Stephen?" Valentine asked.

"Fuck it," Stephen said, "Let's get married in three weeks."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please review. PLEASE? Okay. In honor of the next chapter, here are two teasers:<strong>

"The prodigal returns," Marcus said.

**And for those of you who know who you are:**

"I wouldn't mind," Stephen said. "You could beat me black and blue. I wouldn't mind."


	16. Chapter 16: Of Pain and Suffering

**Author's Note: Sorry to be posting again so quickly. This chapter is long, and I wanted everyone to have time to enjoy it before I post again. So, here you are. This is the painful chapter. This is the angst some of you so crave. I hope you enjoy it. Please review.**

**Major Author's Note: Trigger for self harm. I in no way condone self harm and if you feel this chapter might trigger you to harm yourself DO NOT READ IT. The hard part with writing is to have character do something the author does not agree with. This is a fictional story with fictional characters dealing with fictional scenarios. You wouldn't stab your significant other because your dreams told you to, therefore, you should not cut yourself because a fictional character did.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 16: Of Pain and Suffering<strong>

The next two weeks were whirlwind of events. Invitations for the wedding went out almost immediately. Celine went to Alicante and returned with a huge dress bag she forbid Stephen from looking inside. Stephen wrote to his parents but heard no reply, so a week before the wedding, he and Celine took a carriage to Herondale Manor so she could meet his parents.

The Herondale Manor house was in another valley, a half hour's journey from where the Fairchild, Wayland, and Lightwood Manors were located. Stephen and Celine set out in a misting rain beneath steel gray skies following a subdued breakfast. In the last few days, a chill had come into the valley. Without any sunlight all of the life seemed to have been sucked out of everything.

Stephen drew aside the curtain covering the window of the carriage and looked out. If the weather kept up like this, he would be marrying Celine in a windowless ballroom on the first floor of Fairchild Manor.

"You look nice today," Celine said. Stephen dropped the curtain back over the window and looked down at the leather coat and matching gloves he wore. They arrived in his closet sometime during the night, yet another gift from Valentine, who seemed bent on overhauling Stephen's wardrobe top to bottom. Not that Stephen minded. The jacket was well made and the gloves would be useful.

"Thank you," Stephen said. He looked over Celine's outfit, which consisted of a soft, loose fitting sweater and skin tight black pants. Any other time, he would have sat beside her just to run his hands up and down her thighs as they passionately kissed for the entire carriage ride. Today, Stephen had other things on his mind.

"Have you heard from your parents at all?" Celine asked.

"I have not," Stephen said. He moved the curtain aside once more and looked out into the dreary countryside.

"What should of reception should I expect from them?" Celine asked. Stephen glanced at Wayland Manor as they passed it by. He'd asked Michael to be his best man, and Michael accepted the request. "Stephen?"

"What?" Stephen asked.

"You've been so distracted lately," Celine said. She crossed the carriage and sat beside him. "You were so… enthusiastic… when you proposed. Now…"

"I have a lot on my mind," Stephen said, though that was the exact opposite. With Celine, Jocelyn, and Josie Wayland doing all of the planning, all Stephen had to be concerned with was showing up to the wedding and not forgetting how to draw the wedded union runes. He could hole up in his room and not come out until the day before the wedding, which was when he had an appointment to have his runes stripped.

"What, then?" Celine asked. She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him on the lips. "You can talk to me, you know. I'm going to be your wife in six days."

"It's nothing."

"Stephen-"

"I feel like I barely know you," Stephen confessed. "I wanted to get married in the spring. I wanted to… get to know you better."

"That's what our honeymoon is for," Celine said. They would leave immediately after the wedding for a honeymoon. Celine had never been out of Idris and demanded they go to Paris, but Stephen stood firm. After all, he hadn't had his choice of wedding cake flavors, or food, or even what he was going to wear, but the honeymoon was a different matter. Stephen wanted to take his honeymoon in London, and so they would spend an entire month at the London Institute.

After the honeymoon, they would continue to live at Fairchild Manor. Children were supposed to come next, a thought which made Stephen sick to his stomach. He couldn't bear the idea of seeing another child of his born. Stephen hoped to postpone the conception of a child, at least until after the Accords the following November, but he doubted he would get his way on that either.

"What's your favorite color?" Celine asked.

"Green," Stephen replied.

"Well, mine is purple. Like, lilac purple," Celine said. Stephen nodded. "There, see, now you've gotten to know me a little better."

Stephen resisted rolling his eyes. Knowing one another's favorite colors just wasn't enough, not for Stephen. There were a hundred things Stephen wanted to know about Celine, important things, such as where she came from and where she wanted to go. He had always wanted to one day return to London; would Celine want to live there? If she didn't want to move to London, would they stay in Idris? Get their own house? For Celine to ask Stephen something as trivial as what his favorite color was, and count it as "getting to know" him caused Stephen to hate Celine, just a little bit.

They arrived at Herondale Manor not long after. Stephen climbed out of the carriage first, then helped Celine down, and together, they ran up the front steps to the large house. Stephen rang the bell and the door opened a second later.

"Master Herondale," A woman said. She was a maid the Herondale's had brought from London, one of the several servants they employed.

"I've come to see my parents," Stephen said. He walked inside with Celine and followed the maid down a long hallway lined with the wedding portraits of many of the Herondales. The last picture in the hallway was of Stephen and Amatis. Stephen tried not to look at it, but there it was: he and Amatis's happiness and keen look to the future immortalized on canvas.

The maid knocked on a door, then opened it and walked inside.

"Mr. and Mrs. Herondale? Your son is here to see you," the maid said.

Stephen and Celine walked inside the sitting room to find Marcus on one couch and Imogen on the other. There was a fire in the fireplace, and books in both Marcus and Imogen's hands. The maid mentioned tea and left the room.

Marcus looked Stephen up and down. Not much had changed with Marcus since the last time Stephen saw him, at Isaiah's funeral. He looked a little older, a bit more weathered. Stephen removed his gloves and coat and cleared his throat.

"The prodigal returns," Marcus said. He closed the book in his hands and set it on a small coffee table.

"Father, you know why I'm here," Stephen said evenly.

"No, no, I'm not sure anymore," Marcus said. "It's always something with you. Please enlighten your mother and I." Stephen turned his eyes to Imogen, who looked away and folded her arms.

"I wanted you to meet Celine. She's become very… dear to me," Stephen said. He put an arm around Celine's waist and pulled her against him, wanting her to stand with him, and not just behind him. "As you must have heard, she's going to become my wife on Sunday."

"So are you or are you not still married to Amatis?" Marcus asked. He appeared confused.

"We annulled the marriage," Stephen said.

"On grounds of infidelity, so I heard," Marcus said. "And is this girl, Celine, the one you cheated on Amatis with?" Marcus looked Celine over, his cold blue eyes scrutinizing her. "My, she is pretty."

"Thank you," Celine said.

"It speaks!" Marcus said. He turned his eyes back to Stephen. "Rest assured, son, you aren't the first Herondale to think with your cock and not with your head. Our history is littered with stupid men and the stupider women they fucked. I thought I taught you better."

"She's not stupid!" Stephen exclaimed. "I'm in love with her, father!"

Marcus snorted. "Yes, but do you love her?" he asked.

"Of course I love her. I'm going to marry her," Stephen said. Marcus rolled his eyes.

"You don't love her, she's just someone you've fucked enough times to feel something for. It's lust, Stephen. It's like a soap bubble: sooner or later it will pop and you'll never know if it was ever there to begin with," Marcus said. Celine gasped and ran out of the room.

Marcus never did like Amatis, however, Amatis knew that and held her own against him anyway. She had always been the one person besides Imogen who could match wits with Marcus. Amatis wouldn't have run out of the room the moment Marcus insulted her relationship. She would have told Marcus he was wrong, and then proved him wrong as well. Celine only ran.

"I love her," Stephen said. "You owe Celine an apology. You owe me…"

"I owe you nothing," Marcus said. "You did this. You married Amatis and when that didn't work out you cheated on her and now you're marrying this other girl. You've brought shame to our family, what with this Circle business and your divorce and now this…lust driven rebound. I won't stand for it. I will not sit by and watch you destroy one life after another. You are dead to me, Stephen."

"I'm your son!" Stephen exclaimed. "I am your only son. You can't pick and choose the man I'm supposed to be. That's not for you to decide!"

"Darling, did you hear something?" Marcus asked. He lifted his book and turned to the page he had just been reading.

"Mama!" Stephen cried. "You can't let him do this!"

"I will always love you and you will always be my son," Imogen said. "However, I have to stand with your father on this. I can't in good conscience accept this marriage."

"Then you have lost me as a son," Stephen said. He grabbed his coat and gloves and hurried from the room.

* * *

><p>Stephen spent the next few days in his bedroom, leaving only for meals. Otherwise, he lay in bed, trying to read, but none of his favorite books held much interest for him. Celine was a near constant presence. They would be living in his room together after their marriage, and every day, Celine moved something else of hers into his room, slowly filling the large space until it felt as cramped as the tiny canal house Stephen had left. When Stephen moved into the canal house with Amatis, he brought barely anything of his own, and when he left there, he brought even less to Fairchild Manor. All of his possessions fit into two trunks, one of which was filled with weapons.<p>

Now, half of the bedroom contained his few things, and the other side of the room was filled with wedding gifts and Celine's possessions. Celine wasn't just moving her things in, she was changing the room bit by bit, making it less his and more hers. Stephen woke up three days before the wedding to find himself sweating beneath a sumptuous silk and velvet comforter that was nothing like the soft quilt he was used to.

Michael stopped by twice, always with an enthusiastic attitude regarding the wedding. Stephen didn't want to talk about the wedding, or how excited he was to be marrying Celine, because he didn't want to lie. Ever since Marcus cast doubt on Stephen's relationship and disowned him, Stephen found himself unable to be happy about he and Celine's upcoming nuptials. Everything suddenly felt wrong. Stephen, who never once had second thoughts about marrying Amatis, began to dread his marriage to Celine.

On the morning before the wedding, Stephen woke up alone. Today, he would be going to the Silent City to have his marriage runes stripped off, so that Celine would be able to draw new runes on him, Marking him as her own. Stephen understood why this was to happen: he had to physically lose something before he could gain something else.

Stephen climbed from the bed, went into the bathroom, and took a long, hot shower. When that was done, he wrapped in a towel and over to his dresser. He dressed in some pants, then looked up to see his silver Herondale box sitting on top of his dresser. Stephen slid the lid of the box aside and looked in to find a daisy, no larger than a button, lying in the bottom of the box. The daisy was dried and perfectly preserved. Stephen picked up the daisy, only to have it crumble in his fingers. He knew where the daisy had come from and knew he should have felt something as he watched the petals float to the floor, however, he only felt numbness, which was the case anymore.

Stephen felt like he was forcing himself to climb out of bed, to eat, to do anything to function as a human being. Even when he made love to Celine, he felt like he was pushing his body through the motions. The night before, it took him nearly twenty minutes to be ready for Celine, and then, he actually faked his orgasm by grabbing the head board of the bed and crying out loud enough for Valentine and Jocelyn to hear. After that, Stephen retreated into the bathroom and left Celine to her own devices. Stephen was certain that he could hurt himself now and not feel a thing.

Which begged the question, what was stopping him? Stephen reached into the silver box and withdrew his dagger. He ran his thumb along the sharp edge and saw a drop of blood well up, though he still felt nothing. He would have to cut deeper and bleed harder to feel anything. He was about to press the blade to his arm when he heard Valentine's voice in the hallway.

"I told you so," Valentine said smugly. Celine laughed and said something back. They must not have known he was awake.

The door knob began to turn, slowly. Stephen clenched his fist around the dagger's handle. As the door opened, he stabbed the dagger into the inside of his left bicep. Pain fought against numbness as his heart pounded. Blood stained the dagger's polished silver blade and ran down his arm, hard, fast, painful.

"STEPHEN!" Celine cried.

Stephen dropped the dagger and watched it bounce beneath his dresser. Celine laid her hand over the cut as Valentine drew a healing rune on Stephen's arm which sealed the cut closed in an instant.

"What were you thinking?" Celine demanded.

"Oh, darling, it's only you," Stephen gasped. "I had a dream there was a demon inside of me. There was only one way to get it out…" He gestured to the cut on his arm. "Do you think there is something awful in me?"

"Of course not," Valentine said. He wrapped his arms around Stephen and held him close.

"Would you say, then, that I'm perfect?" Stephen asked. "Celine, darling, would you dare say I'm… perfect? That you and I together are, perhaps, perfect?" Something changed in Valentine. Stephen felt his arms become wooden where they'd once been warm and welcoming. "Darling?"

"We're perfect," Celine said.

"Of course we are," Stephen said. "I love you and you love me and everything is PERFECT!"

"Michael is waiting for you downstairs. We're going to leave for Alicante as soon as you finish your breakfast," Valentine said. He released Stephen and walked out of the room. Stephen wiped the blood from his arm and went to the closet for a shirt.

"You weren't dreaming," Celine said. "I've watched you dream- you weren't." Celine walked over to the closet and stood beside him, hovering, as always. "Why don't you tell me what's really the matter? Is it what your father said? Is it…"

"Tell me you love me," Stephen said.

"I love you," Celine said.

"No, tell me, you love me," Stephen said. He rested his hands on her arms and looked into her eyes. He didn't care about the individual words, but rather, what they meant. For Celine to love him, she had to be on his side. Whenever he had doubts, she had to love him enough to make him erase those doubts.

"I love you," Celine said. She kissed his lips and looked into his eyes, her conviction never wavering as she said the words once more. "I love you."

* * *

><p>After breakfast, Stephen rode into Alicante with Valentine and Michael. Stephen had an odd sense of déjà vu when he left Nicias at a stable and went into the Accords Hall with Michael at his back. They walked downstairs and ended up in the Silent City. Once again, Michael stated their business to one of the Brothers, who showed them to the Ossuarium.<p>

The Ossuarium was a place for the Shadowhunters who died mysterious deaths to receive autopsies. Stephen wasn't at all surprised to see a body lying on a table, covered with a sheet. There was a Brother in the corner of the room, meticulously cleaning several sharp looking instruments.

"Have you eaten?" The Brother asked. Stephen heard the voice in his mind, yet still jumped back, startled. He felt Michael's hand on his lower back, perhaps to keep him from running away.

"Yes," Stephen said.

"I wish that you had not," The Brother said mournfully. "As it is. Please remove your shirt and climb onto an empty table."

Stephen stared at the stone tables in the middle of the room as his palms became slick with sweat. There were reasons why Shadowhunters almost never had their permanent runes striped off. When Shadowhunters went bad and could not be fixed, their runes were burned off their skin by acid in an unspeakable, torturous process. Stephen had heard the stories of men dying in the midst of the process, their bodies unable to take the unrelenting agony.

"Stephen," Michael said. He stepped closer and touched Stephen on the wrist. Stephen lifted his hands and hastily unbuttoned his shirt, then tossed it to Michael. He climbed onto a table and laid down, trying to slow his breathing. The ceiling above was black and covered with an infinite amount of tiny pinpricks of light, like stars. A cold hand took Stephen's right arm, laid it on a platform, and manacled it down at the wrist.

"That's not necessary," Stephen said. "It's just the marriage runes that need taken away. I don't need…" Stephen looked up at the ceiling, trying to focus on the stars. His eyes saw a silver instrument hanging close by, a sharp looking blade curved like the grim reaper's sickle.

"It is necessary," The Brother said. He took Stephen's right arm and manacled it down as well, then did the same to Stephen's feet. "This will hurt some."

"How much?"

"Some."

Stephen looked down, past his feet, to see Valentine standing near the door. Valentine was smiling in the way he always did when something amused him. He probably viewed this as the ultimate test of Stephen's loyalty. After all, it was only right for Valentine's second in command to be family as well.

Stephen closed his eyes and tried to decide who he was doing this for. Yes, he was motivated to strip his runes in order to marry Celine. Celine was going to marry Stephen because she said she loved him. All Stephen wanted was a girl to love him and never leave him. Was Celine's devotion worth all of the pain and suffering Stephen had gone through, even before now?

Something cold dripped onto Stephen's arm, just over the marriage rune. Stephen's next breath burned his throat as he smelled bitter acid. The same coldness dripped onto his chest, and Stephen started to scream.

He jerked against the metal buckles that held his body down, so hard, metal sliced into his skin. Stephen began shaking uncontrollably as his muscles clenched and released. There was nothing but pain and more burning, cutting, awful pain. Stephen tried to stop screaming, and couldn't. Every noise that came out of him ripped the skin of his throat. He started to suffocate.

Memories began to appear in his mind. Stephen burst into tears as he saw Amatis walking through the front gates of the Academy the day they first met. Next, he saw her on their wedding day. That memory faded and was replaced by the memory of her on their wedding night. Amatis was lying on their bed, daisies falling out of her hair as they kissed passionately. That memory faded, and then Stephen saw Amatis beside him, her body bleeding as her heart broke.

_Will any of that be worth it, in the end?_

"Don't touch him!" Valentine yelled.

"He's in pain, can't you see that?" Michael cried. He grabbed Stephen's hand and held it. Stephen saw tears streaming down Michael's face.

There was heat against Stephen's skin then and the burning pain was diminished. The Brother wiped Stephen's arm and chest with a cloth, drew a healing rune, and released the manacles. Stephen sat up and spectacularly discovered why he should have skipped breakfast, then looked down to see his marriage runes gone and replaced with two smooth circles of skin, like he had never been married at all.

"Congratulations, by the way," The Brother said.

* * *

><p>Stephen spent most of the rest of the day in a dreamlike half sleep in a guest bedroom at the Wayland Manor. After dinner, Michael brought in two glasses of brandy. Tomorrow was the wedding, but Stephen was in no mood to discuss it, and Michael never brought it up.<p>

"So we'll have French toast for breakfast," Michael finally said. "Then we'll go to Fairchild Manor and you'll marry a beautiful girl." Stephen nodded and poured the rest of his brandy down his throat. "Do you need anything else?" Stephen shook his head. "Best get to bed then." Michael stood up.

"Don't leave me," Stephen said. "Stay." Michael dropped the empty brandy glasses onto the bedside table. Stephen smiled, reached up, grabbed Michael by the waistband of his pants, and jerked him onto the bed.

"Oh, no, you fucking did not just…" Michael dug his fingers into Stephen's sides. Stephen gasped and started to laugh. He shoved Michael away. Michael rolled off the bed, pulling Stephen onto the floor after him. One second, Stephen was on top, holding Michael down by the arms, and then Michael threw Stephen onto his back and leaned down to bite Stephen hard on the collarbone. Stephen screamed and punched Michael in the head; Michael grabbed Stephen by the hair and pulled hard. Then they were rolling around the room, slamming into things, drawing blood, and screaming the most immature words they could think of.

It was like this before, between Stephen and Michael, back at the Academy. Every once in a while, things got to serious, and sooner than later, one would have the other in a head lock. Neither were able to admit defeat. They would just fight until someone got hurt or they tired themselves out.

Somehow, Michael managed to pin Stephen onto the floor so that they were facing opposite directions. Stephen sat up and bit Michael on the inside of the thigh.

"By the Angel!" Michael cried. He jumped up but Stephen was on his feet a second later, dragging Michael back down to the floor. Michael scratched his nails down Stephen's sides before they were rolling across the floor once again. Stephen ended up on his back, nearly pushed beneath the bed, with Michael's arms locked around him.

"Mercy," Stephen whispered. He felt Michael's breath against his lips and could only see blue eyes looking into his.

"Do you concede defeat?" Michael asked.

"Do you really want to beat the groom up the night before the wedding?" Stephen asked.

"You deserve it, Herondale," Michael said. He released Stephen and sat up, straddling Stephen's hips. Michael ran a hand through his hair, still breathing hard but smiling his usual eager smile. Stephen lifted his hands and placed them on Michael's hips, causing him to giggle softly. Michael was so ticklish, especially there.

"I wouldn't mind," Stephen said. "You could beat me black and blue. I wouldn't mind."

"I wouldn't hurt you," Michael whispered. "You know, before…back in the Silent City… I couldn't bear to see you hurt. Maybe you're my parabatai after all, if what hurts you hurts me."

"I won't tell," Stephen said. He ran his fingers along the waist band of Michael's pants, stopping at a polished silver button. Stephen grabbed the button and pulled it open. "I'll never tell."

"What the fuck are you doing!" Michael exclaimed. He slapped Stephen's hands away, stood up, and buttoned his pants. "Stephen. What the fuck?" Michael glared at Stephen in a way he never had before.

"I don't want you. I just…" Stephen said. Michael groaned loudly and covered his eyes. "Did you ever feel like you were falling and you wanted to reach out and grab something to stop your fall?"

"Yeah. Sure. Plenty of times," Michael said. "Who hasn't?" Michael averted his eyes, no longer able to make eye contact.

"You hate me," Stephen said.

"No, Angel, no," Michael insisted. "It's not that. It's… there was a time, before, back at the Academy, with you… I thought, sure, perhaps, why not, everyone else is doing it. But now… I'm married, and you're going to be married, tomorrow, and so it never will happen between us. Never."

Michael started for the door, leaving Stephen still down on the floor.

"Stay with me," Stephen whispered. "I don't want to be alone, not tonight. Please, Michael, stay."

"Just until you fall asleep," Michael said. He sat down on the side of the bed. Stephen crawled beneath the covers and laid his head on a pillow. They were asleep within seconds.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please review. You want the next chapter soon, right? Reviews will provoke me to update faster! Thanks for reading! <strong>


	17. Chapter 17: Wedded Union

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for the reviews for last chapter! Please enjoy this chapter and review! I know of at least a few of you who should love this chapter, and I would love to hear what you have to say. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17: Wedded Union<strong>

The next morning, Stephen woke up and had breakfast with Michael before they dressed in coordinating brown suits. Then, suddenly, he was standing with Michael and Valentine on the front steps of Fairchild Manor, greeting guests. Stephen had only seen most of the Circle together at Luke's memorial. Now, as he observed the nearly seventy people in attendance, he found himself in awe at how far reaching Valentine's influence was. The Accords would be signed in exactly one year's time, and if the Circle continued to grow, the Downworlders wouldn't stand a chance.

"We couldn't have asked for a better day," Valentine said, putting an arm around Stephen's shoulders. The rain clouds had finally blown away and left behind a cloudless blue sky. The trees around the manor were all red, orange, and varying shades of green. Even the temperature was unseasonably warm. "You should go get ready. It's almost time to start."

"What?" Stephen asked.

"You're going to get married in about an hour," Valentine said with a laugh. Stephen nodded quickly as the blood drained from his face. "Michael? Make sure you get him a drink." Valentine pushed Stephen towards the front door. Stephen and Michael went down to the study just down the hall from the kitchen. Stephen fell onto a couch as Michael poured some brandy into a glass.

"Are you doing alright? You're a bit pale, all of the sudden," Michael said. He pinched Stephen's cheeks and smiled. It was as if last night never happened.

"Why don't you go see Celine for me? Tell her I can't wait to see her," Stephen said.

"Shall I tell her anything else?" Michael asked. "Do you want her to know that you love her? Or that…"

"I'm sure you'll come up with something nice," Stephen said. Michael smiled and left the room.

Once he was gone, Stephen finished his glass of brandy, and drank another. In reality, what Stephen told Michael to tell Celine was a lie: Stephen wasn't looking forward to seeing Celine, in fact, he was dreading their wedding. He wanted to believe that these were just cold feet on the day of his wedding; however, his feet had been cold for the last three weeks, since five minutes after he proposed. Nothing felt right. Everything happened so fast. One minute, Stephen was married to Amatis, and the next minute, he was sitting in a room, waiting to marry Celine, a girl who swore she loved him. Stephen thought he loved her back, but then again, all he knew was that her name was Celine and that she fancied the color purple.

Stephen could hear people outside, milling around on the back patio. The wedding would take place on the back lawn, down near the lake. Stephen only met half of the people in attendance for the first time today, and yet they were all preparing to take their seats to see Stephen marry Celine. He could have walked out the front door, got his horse, and rode away, leaving Celine waiting to marry him and the Circle far behind. Perhaps, he could go to London, or Dublin, or New York. Stephen could disappear (not forever) but long enough to make sure everyone forgot about him.

After a few minutes, Michael walked in, trying to hide a smile. Angel love Michael, who was always everything Stephen ever needed him to be.

"She's beautiful," Michael said. "I've never seen a more beautiful bride. My wife would cut me if she heard me say that, but it's the truth. Celine wanted me to tell you that if her love for you could be counted, it would measure more than the amount of both the fish in the sea and the stars in the sky." Stephen raised his eyebrows.

"Really?" He asked. "All the fish in the sea AND the stars in the sky? That's a lot, indeed!"

"Indeed," Michael said. He poured Stephen another glass of brandy and offered it to him.

"If you do nothing else today, please, Angel Michael, keep them coming," Stephen said, and drank deeply.

There was another knock at the door and Valentine leaned his head in, smiling excitedly.

"Your mother is here," Valentine said. Stephen jumped to his feet as Imogen walked in, wearing a dress made of dark green silk. Her hair was pulled back in an updo. She looked every bit what the mother of the groom should look like.

"I'll leave you," Michael said.

"Stay," Stephen said. "Mother, why are you here? I'm dead to you, remember?" Pain flashed across Imogen's face, just for a second.

"You'll never be dead to me," Imogen said. "You are my son. No matter what you do, no matter who you are with, no matter who you hurt, you are still my son. I don't care what your father says. You will always be my son."

"You don't have to be here," Stephen insisted.

"It is your wedding day and I will be damned if I don't see you get married," Imogen said. Stephen's eyes filled with tears. He couldn't bear to look his mother in the eye, for he feared he might start to cry and never stop. "I brought you this," Imogen lifted up a handkerchief embroidered with a pattern of birds from her purse. "Your father carried this when he married me, and his father carried it as well. It is said that this handkerchief brings good luck to a marriage. I want you to carry it this time. There is nothing wrong with a little luck."

Stephen took the handkerchief and put it in his pocket. He and Imogen sat on the couch together as Michael and Valentine silently slipped from the room. The moment the door closed, Imogen grabbed Stephen's hand and held it tightly.

"Now this girl, Celine… do you love her?" Imogen asked.

"Yes," Stephen said. "But Mama…"

"If you love her, then I have no choice but to support your decision to marry her. You are my son," Imogen said. "You father can go… what do those mundanes say? He can go flip himself." Stephen buried his face in his hands and laughed as he cried.

When Valentine reported that it was time for the wedding to begin, Stephen walked out of the room with Imogen. They went out onto the patio to find the wedding guests all seated. Michael shook Stephen's hand, and then walked down the aisle first. Stephen followed with Imogen, who was given a seat in the front row of guests. Once Imogen was seated, Stephen took his place beside Michael.

Jocelyn started down the aisle next. She was wearing a chocolate brown dress and carried a bouquet of dark ivory roses. She gave Stephen a curt nod before taking her place across from him. Jocelyn looked back at the house and Stephen followed her gaze to see Valentine standing on the patio beside the door, waiting for Celine. Valentine looked inside and held out his arm, but Celine did not walk out.

Stephen glanced back over at Jocelyn to see a little smile on her lips. Imogen rubbed her hands together and turned her light eyes to Stephen, her lips pressed closed tightly with concern.

"You don't think…" Michael mumbled. Stephen stared past Valentine, wishing he could see inside the house. Most everyone was looking at the house now, waiting for the bride to make her entrance. Valentine held his hand out once again and this time, Stephen saw a hand reach out and grip Valentine's arm. Celine walked out of the house and looked out over the crowd of people.

Valentine led Celine down off the patio and across the yard. Celine's dress was light gold, with a lace covered bodice and a full, flowing skirt that fanned out behind her into a train. Her hair was down, curled into soft waves around her face. She wore a veil that covered her arms and went halfway down her back. Her hands clutched a bouquet of blood red roses.

Stephen expected there to be a moment that he would suddenly recognize Celine as the girl who would become his wife, the way he recognized Amatis on their wedding day as she walked down the aisle holding Luke's arm. Instead, Stephen only saw Celine's lost expression as her eyes searched unfamiliar faces for one person who was there for her. She seemed so young and innocent, dressed in a wedding dress, about to become a wife just three months after her 18th birthday. It was the first time since they became engaged that Stephen saw Celine appear vulnerable.

"Smile," Michael mumbled. Stephen met Celine's eyes to find her crying. When she reached the end of the aisle with Valentine, Celine grabbed Stephen's hand and held it tightly. They turned their backs to everyone and faced Hodge, who cleared his throat and opened a book.

"Ladies and gentleman, we are gathered here today to witness the marriage of Stephen and Celine," Hodge said. "Should anyone object to this marriage, let them speak now, or forever hold their peace." Stephen's mouth fell open. Hodge smiled and gave Stephen a wink. "If there are no objections…" Celine dug her nails into Stephen's palm.

"No objections," Celine said.

Hodge began with a reading before he had Stephen and Celine face each other to say their vows. Half of the time, Stephen wasn't sure what he was saying. He felt like he was watching someone else get married.

"Celine, do you take Stephen to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold, as long as you both shall live?" Hodge asked.

"I do," Celine said.

"And do you, Stephen, take Celine to be your wedded wife, to have and to hold, as long as you both shall live?" Hodge asked. Stephen looked up at Celine. She was smiling, her eyes still filled with tears.

"I do," Stephen said.

"With the application of your marriage runes, you will be considered married in the eyes of the Clave, the Circle, and most importantly, in the eyes of the Angel," Hodge said. He brought out a stele and offered it to Celine. "Go to it, then. Don't come back until you're married." Everyone laughed.

Celine grabbed Stephen's hand and pulled him back down the aisle. They went inside the house and down to the office where Stephen had last been with Michael. Celine pushed the door closed and looked up at Stephen.

"Listen to me. I didn't know you had to have your runes stripped. Valentine told me about yesterday, how you had acid dripped onto your skin. It hurt you," Celine said. "I know you're still in pain, I can see it in your eyes. You don't want this."

"Of course I wanted it," Stephen said. "I just…"

"I won't draw your runes. No one will have to see them. We can wait until you want them," Celine said. "You wanted to wait to get married and I made us get married and now… I don't want to force you into this."

"What do you mean, we can wait?" Stephen asked, instantly suspicious. He had expected Celine to be pulling his jacket and shirt off, all to Mark him as her own faster. He didn't expect Celine to be hesitant, after all they had been through.

There was a noise in the kitchen and Celine turned her head, listening carefully. She leaned closer to Stephen.

"They're just runes," she whispered. "I can put them on you whenever I want." Stephen could only imagine what might happen if he didn't take the marriage runes while Celine did. They would be faking their marriage and therefore living in more sin than they already were.

"You want to marry me, right?" Stephen asked.

"Of course I do," Celine said. "I just want you to want to marry me. I don't want to hurt you. You would never hurt me, right? So why should I hurt you?"

"You love me," Stephen said, "you'll never hurt me." He took the stele from her, then took her right hand and drew a rune on her bicep, just above her elbow. Stephen traced his fingers up her arm and across her collar bone. He drew another rune over her heart and held the stele out to her. "Now me."

Celine reached up and helped Stephen out of his jacket. She unbuttoned his shirt next and tossed it aside. Stephen sat on the edge of a desk and Celine rested a hand over his heart, her fingers gently touching the scar the acid left behind.

"You have to promise me something," Stephen said.

"Anything," Celine said. Her gold eyes were huge and still wet with tears.

"Don't stop," Stephen said, his voice cracking. "Whatever you do, don't stop."

"I promise," Celine said. She took his right hand, laced her fingers with his, and placed the stele against his skin. She began to move the stele over the scar as black lines flowed from the stele and etched into his skin. Stephen flinched and jerked his arm away, but Celine kept her promise and didn't let him go. The stele felt like a hot knife slicing through Stephen's skin. When the first rune was finished, Celine pressed the stele to Stephen's chest and began another rune. That time, Stephen felt sick. He wanted to pull away, stop the pain, and forbid it from ever starting again.

The moment the rune was finished, Stephen slapped Celine's hand away. The stele clattered to the floor and Stephen seized Celine by the arms. He pulled her against him and kissed her lips as he began to cry in pain, sorrow, and happiness. Something had changed inside of him. Whereas Celine was once a stranger to him, she was now irrevocably bound to him.

"My wife," Stephen said. He took her face in his hands and crushed their lips together once more. "Now, you're my wife."

Once completely redressed, Stephen walked outside with Celine. Her Marks were dark against her skin, set off by the light gold of her dress. Beneath his shirt, Stephen's runes throbbed painfully, but there was no going back, not now. All of the wedding guests waited on baited breath, prepared for either outcome. Sometimes, the runes didn't take, for one reason or another. Sometimes, the bride or groom backed out at the very last minute.

Valentine stood up and folded his arms as he looked from Stephen to Celine. Imogen had a handkerchief to her mouth. Stephen put his arms around Celine and drew her body close to his. He closed his eyes and kissed her lips as everyone burst into applause.

* * *

><p>Immediately following the wedding there was a cocktail hour before a meal would be served. Stephen took his place on the patio with Valentine and Michael to socialize with guests as the sunset began to turn the sky gold.<p>

Michael did his duty as best man by keeping a cold drink on Stephen's hands at all times. Imogen took Celine aside to talk with her. Stephen was nervous for Celine, but his worry was soothed when he saw the two most important women in his life sharing a laugh. Celine was gone for a few minutes, and in that time, Stephen had one drink, and then traded his empty glass for Michael's full one. The day had been long and emotional, and Stephen was tired of it. He only wanted to eat dinner, go to bed, and wake up early to leave for London.

"You shouldn't drink so much," Valentine mumbled. "You have… things to do tonight."

"Like what?" Stephen asked. He knew his marriage was now recognized by the Clave, however, there was something else that needed to be done before he and Celine would be, for all intents and purposes "married" in the eyes of a higher power.

"It's your wedding night," Valentine said, as if Stephen didn't already know. "You must consummate your marriage, or it won't be sanctified in the eyes of the Angel."

"Oh, we can't have that," Stephen said. "Then again, I don't believe it's any of the Angel's business what I do on my wedding night, and I don't think it's yours either. It is, after all, my wedding night."

"Of course it is," Valentine said. Stephen finished his drink and snapped his fingers at Michael to summon another. Hodge walked over and stepped between Stephen and Valentine.

"There is a… wolf situation," Hodge mumbled. Stephen looked beyond the lake to see a lone wolf standing on a hill in the distance. As the party's conversation died, the pack leader was joined by six other wolves.

"Should we send a representative?" Michael asked. Celine walked onto the deck with Imogen and stood beside Stephen. She shivered nervously and Stephen put an arm around her shoulders.

"I'm sure they mean no trouble," Valentine said.

The pack leader sat back on his haunches and stared down at the gathered Shadowhunters. The hairs on the back of Stephen's neck stood up as he felt the wolf's gaze on him alone. There were a few tense seconds of silence. Then the wolf tilted his head back and cried out with a howl full of pain and sorrow. If Stephen didn't know better, he could have sworn the wolf was heartbroken. When the howl finally stopped, the wolves stood up and ran out of sight.

* * *

><p>Dinner was held soon after, followed by more socializing. Imogen left after the meal, causing Stephen to feel inexplicably homesick. Someone lit a bonfire beside the lake and some of the men went down to it. Jocelyn went inside to tend to Jonathan, and everyone else broke off into their usual cliques. Stephen sat on a porch swing and drank; Celine sat beside him and fiddled with her hair.<p>

"Come on," Celine finally said. She stood up and pulled Stephen off the porch and out into the lawn. Stephen staggered after her as Celine led him away from the house, into the shadows surrounding the lake.

"Save it for tonight!" Someone yelled.

"Aw, come on, treat her right!" Another person called. Stephen's face got hot. He spun around, prepared to walk back to the house, but Celine grabbed his arm and pulled him after her. They ended up beneath a tall oak tree on the west side of the lake.

"Forgive me for wanting to spend time with my husband on our wedding day. We haven't had a moment to ourselves since we drew our runes," Celine said.

"That's what happens on the wedding day," Stephen said. "Amatis and I…"

"What?" Celine asked. She stepped closer to Stephen. Sometime during the evening she had become less of a stereotypical mundane bride and more like the girl Stephen sat beside at his first Circle meeting. Celine was wearing her Circle amulet around her neck, and her dress was now covered with leaves and grass stains. "You and Amatis what?"

"Nothing," Stephen said. Celine folded her arms.

"I won't have you keeping secrets from me. I'm your wife. I love you and I am your wife. I'll never lie to you; I only expect the same from you," Celine said. "Now, what's the matter?"

"Nothing!" Stephen exclaimed. "Nothing is the matter." Celine remained in front of him, her arms folded, a scowl on her face. "The wedding isn't about the bride and groom. It's about everyone else. We're just… the reason for the party."

"We got married today, remember?" Celine asked. "I said I do, you said you do… Now we're married. We are Mr. and Mrs. Stephen and Celine Herondale, remember?"

"I'm going to be sick," Stephen said. He fell onto the ground and leaned against the tree, putting his head down between his knees. The world seemed to turn over, so that the sky was beneath him.

"You've been through a lot," Celine whispered. She sat beside him and put a cool hand on the back of his neck. "It's just our wedding day. Tomorrow, we'll wake up together, and we'll go to London, and everything will be back to normal."

"I've done things I fear I may never forgive myself for," Stephen said. He looked out onto the lake, thinking how there was no amount of alcohol that would ever numb the pain he felt inside.

"I'll forgive you," Celine said. She took Stephen's hand and pressed it to her lips. "I'll always love you, Stephen. Always." Stephen shook his head, unable to tell her that it wasn't her forgiveness he would ever need. "Look what I found."

Celine lifted her hand to show Stephen two thin wooden sticks and a book of matches. She gave Stephen one of the sticks, then struck a match and lit the end of the stick he held. The stick ignited with a shower of bright gold sparks. Celine lit her sparkler as well and waved it around, drawing lines in the air with light. Stephen smiled and watched as Celine spelled out their names and drew hearts until finally, the sparklers went out. "Feel better now?" She asked.

"I do," Stephen said. It was one thing he could always count on: for Celine to make him feel better when he felt his worst. When he closed his eyes and kissed her, he managed to convince himself, for the moment, that this was all for the best.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please review! Here is a teaser:<strong>

"In twenty years, your son could change the world. It all starts with you."


	18. Chapter 18: London

**Author's Note: Thanks to Team Jem for the one wonderful review. It would have been nice to get more reviews, just so you know. It would be great to hear from everyone, or someone, so, you know… feel free. And now for a lighter chapter, that I hope you all enjoy… and please, REVIEW!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 18: London<strong>

At the end of the night, Stephen and Celine bid farewell to everyone before Stephen lifted Celine and carried her over the threshold and into the Fairchild manor. As soon as they were out of everyone's sight, Stephen dropped Celine onto the floor and they walked upstairs. They went to their room and walked in to find it filled with candles. The bed was covered with red rose petals and a bottle of wine was chilling in an ice bucket on the bedside table.

"I need a shower," Stephen said.

"Wait," Celine said. "Help me out of this dress." Stephen looked at the row of buttons straight up the back and tried not to laugh. By the time he got the buttons open, consummating his marriage would be the last thing on his mind. Celine grabbed a zipper on the side of the dress and started pulling it down. Stephen brushed her hand away and pulled the zipper down the rest of the way. The gold dress slipped from Celine's body, leaving her standing before Stephen dressed in a light brown lace corset with panties to match.

Stephen felt his mouth go dry at the sight of all of that lace, exposed skin, and the two runes that matched his. Celine reached up and pulled Stephen's jacket off, then pulled his shirt over his head. Celine fell against Stephen as they began to kiss passionately. Her fingers were on Stephen's belt, and then his pants joined her dress on the floor.

Stephen lifted Celine off the floor, kicked their clothes aside, carried her to the bed, and tossed her down onto it. He climbed over her and kissed her neck, then began to hastily untie the stays of her corset until it parted down the middle. Celine looked up at Stephen, her lips swollen into a delightful pout. She pushed her hands down into his boxer shorts and began to stroke his hardening cock.

"Not yet," Stephen mumbled. "Not…" Celine pushed his boxers down and threw them on the floor. Stephen pulled her panties down with a smirk on his face. Celine spread her knees and raked her fingers across his scalp. Stephen was well aware he was rushing into something, but that didn't matter. His body was reawakening beneath Celine's touch, as if the pain of the last week had never happened.

"I can't wait," Celine moaned. She licked her index finger, and then teased it along the bottom of Stephen's shaft. That little bit of warmth and wetness made Stephen only desire her more.

"Wait," Stephen said. He reached into the bedside table as he kissed her collarbones. Celine ran her hands up his back. Stephen thought he might have found what he was looking for and lifted it out, only to find that he was holding a book.

"I highly doubt the Codex is going to be of any use to us," Celine said with a laugh. Stephen dropped the book back into the drawer and sat up. His heart started to pound harder as he looked at the innocent girl between his knees. No, she wasn't innocent, she just wanted to seem that way.

"Who was in our room?" Stephen asked.

"Jocelyn? Valentine? Maryse? I don't know, whoever set up the candles," Celine said. She teased her fingers across his chest. "Why?"

"The bedside table is empty, save for the Codex," Stephen said.

"So?" Celine asked.

"I had a box of condoms in there and now they're gone!" Stephen exclaimed. He covered his eyes because he couldn't bear to see the shocked expression on Celine's face. She must have planned this, the way she planned everything else. Celine wanted Stephen to throw caution to the wind in the name of their wedding night, it was obvious. First came love, then marriage, and then, as soon as humanly possible, the baby in the baby carriage. "I just… I can't even… I can't do this. I'm taking a shower." Stephen climbed out of bed, walked into the bathroom, and slammed the door closed.

Stephen started the shower and climbed in beneath the hot water. He closed his eyes, willing himself not to cry from frustration. He only thought Celine was on his side, when all along, she wasn't. Of course Celine wanted to get married and pregnant as soon as possible; it was why he was a married man a full 28 days after he had divorced Amatis. Stephen put a bar of soap to his chest and scrubbed but the marriage rune would not wash away, no matter how hard he tried, it was already beneath his skin. Stephen bowed his head beneath the water and put his head in his hands.

The bathroom door creaked up.

"Stephen?" Celine asked.

"Leave me alone," Stephen said.

"I want to talk," Celine said.

"I said leave me the fuck alone!" Stephen cried. "Angel, Celine, can't you leave me be?"

"I'm not the one you should be angry with. I know why you're upset and I know why you don't want to get me pregnant. You give me no credit sometimes and perhaps that's my fault," Celine said. "Come to bed soon. I want us to get an early start tomorrow." The bathroom door closed.

Stephen stayed in the shower until the water ran cold. Then he got out, dried off, and went into the bedroom to find Celine back in bed, reading the Codex. He stomped over to his dresser and put on a pair of flannel pajama pants and a long sleeved shirt. Stephen climbed into bed beside his wife and pulled the covers up to his chest.

"Do not say a word until I am finished," Celine said. "We can do this marriage one of two ways. You can resent me for how we got together, and you can distrust me, and we can be miserable. Or, you can accept the fact that I'm your wife and I love you and we can be happy together. What's it going to be?"

"I want to be happy," Stephen whispered.

"Then you have to trust me," Celine said.

* * *

><p>Stephen woke up early the next morning to find Celine packing the last of her things to take on their honeymoon. Everything else they had packed was already in London.<p>

"Good morning," Celine said. She walked over to the bed, leaned down, and kissed Stephen on the lips. "Breakfast is done. We can eat and leave as soon as you're ready."

Stephen climbed out of bed and quickly got dressed. Celine wasn't talking about last night and Stephen certainly wasn't bringing it up. After Stephen had returned to bed, they had fallen asleep together having never consummated their marriage. There was no precedent for that sort of thing. Sex on the wedding night was expected. For it to not happen was unheard of.

The kitchen smelled like bacon and eggs when Stephen and Celine walked in. There was a group of people sitting at the table having breakfast: all mainly Circle members Stephen was unfamiliar with. Robert and Maryse were there as well, with Alec, who was, as usual, sleeping. Michael was there with his wife and their son. Jocelyn had Jonathan, who was fussing and refusing his bottle. When Valentine gave her a look, Jocelyn left the room, not bothering to greet Stephen or Celine.

Stephen watched Jocelyn walk out of the room, wanting to go after her. Stephen realized with a start that Jocelyn had been a bridesmaid in his wedding to Amatis. Seeing Stephen marry Celine must have been difficult on her. He vowed to talk with Jocelyn when he and Celine came back from the honeymoon. It was bad enough that Amatis hated him; Stephen could not bear the burden of another woman's hate.

"Good morning," Valentine said. "You'll have to forgive the crowd. Breakfast turned into a bigger deal than anticipated." Stephen shrugged and went to the stove with Celine to load his plate with food. "So, how was last night?"

"Fine," Stephen said. "There's nothing really to report on…" Stephen sat down at the far end of the kitchen table, thinking that if he was going to lie to Valentine, he could have done a better job. There really was nothing to report on, as nothing happened.

"We're all family here," Valentine said. "Did you consummate?" Stephen nearly choked. The Circle members looked at him, not wanting to know the answer, and yet, burning with a perverse curiosity to see how Stephen would answer such a personal question.

"Not that it is any of your business," Celine said, "but you should know that my husband is a perfect gentleman, and our wedding night was everything I hoped it would be." Stephen resisted jumping up from the table, walking out the door, and never coming back. Celine placed her hand on his thigh and he remembered last night, when she told him to trust her.

"Oh, thank the Angel!" Valentine said, clapping. Robert patted Stephen on the back. It took all of breakfast for Stephen's blush to subside.

After the meal, Stephen took a bright red apple out to a paddock, where Nicias was turned out with several other horses. As usual, Nicias trotted over to Stephen, took the apple from him, and proceeded to eat it before she slobbered chewed up apple all over the sleeve of his coat. Stephen scratched the horse behind her ears as his thoughts turned to London. He and Celine were to be gone for a month, until the middle of December, but Stephen imagined they could stretch the honeymoon out until at least the first of the New Year. He hadn't been back to London for a year. Being home, after everything he had been through, would be wonderful.

"You love her, don't you?" A voice asked. Stephen turned around as Valentine walked over to him. He had a bag of carrots to distribute to the rest of the horses. Nicias took the carrot Valentine offered her and made quick work of it.

"She's a good horse," Stephen said. "Some things change, but I'll always have her."

"Her and Celine," Valentine said with a laugh. "I'm sorry about breakfast. That wasn't any of my business to ask such a personal thing." Stephen shrugged. The incident was long past. "So you and Celine had a bit of scare, yes?"

"What?" Stephen asked.

"Before the wedding. Before your engagement, really," Valentine said. "You thought that you had gotten her pregnant?" Stephen clenched his hands into fists. He pictured the few people who knew about that incident, then narrowed the list down to one person with enough motive to report secrets back to Valentine. Robert Fucking Lightwood.

"I'm not angry, you know," Valentine continued. "If you had gotten her pregnant, I would have been overjoyed, because every baby born is a blessed gift from the Angel. You know that, right?"

"Even the ones that are born too early?" Stephen challenged. "How was Isaiah a gift?"

"He was a gift in his own way," Valentine said. "Had Celine been pregnant, you would have welcomed the baby, wouldn't you?" Stephen refused to respond, because Valentine was right. For however awful and inconvenient the pregnancy scare was, it opened Stephen's eyes to the fact that he had another chance to have a family. "I know you don't want to have a child because you're afraid of losing another one, but you can't let your fear dictate your life. You have a duty, Stephen. A heavenly mandate to..."

"Oh here we go," Stephen said, rolling his eyes. He could remember turning 13 and getting this speech from his father, along with the all important "birds and the bees" speech. He heard it again at the Academy from an instructor and again, the morning of his wedding to Amatis, from his father.

"You must reproduce, Stephen. All Nephilim are called to do this, and more so you, as the last male Herondale of your line. Your children could be powerful. They could go on to do great things," Valentine said. "In twenty years, your son could change the world. It all starts with you." Valentine squeezed Stephen's right arm a little too hard. "Best wishes on a wonderful marriage, and a productive honeymoon."

It was an hour ride to Alicante in a carriage shared with Valentine and Jocelyn. There was a bit of a delay down in the Silent City, as several couples had married the day before and had to register their marriage. Once the Silent Brothers had written Stephen and Celine's names in the registry and checked their runes, Stephen and Celine left the Silent City and walked up to the Gard with Valentine and Jocelyn. There, they said their goodbyes in front of a shimmering Portal.

"Remember what I said," Valentine said with a wink. Stephen nodded and smiled. He took Celine by the hand and pulled her over to the Portal.

"What do I do?" Celine asked. "I've never…" Celine's face was pale, her eyes darting nervously as they reflected the glow of the Portal.

"Think of London," Stephen said. Celine's expression went blank. She had never been to London, she had never even left Idris. "Put your arm around me and don't let go." Stephen stepped forward but Celine balked. "I know it's scary. Close your eyes. Trust me." Celine closed her eyes and put her arm around Stephen's waist.

The second Stephen stepped into the Portal with Celine, he closed his eyes and thought of an old church which never aged, even as buildings sprung up around it. The Portal seemed to rip at Stephen's body, tossing him this way and that. Celine clutched against him, screaming and crying. He held her tighter. A moment later, Stephen's feet hit solid ground.

Stephen opened his eyes to find himself standing on a sidewalk with Celine pressing her face against his chest. People were running every which way. They weren't wearing black and they had no runes; instead, they wore wool coats and carried umbrellas. They walked around Stephen and Celine as if they weren't there. Vehicles of all sizes sped up and down the street. This was a different sort of chaos from the Portal, it was filled with people talking loudly and the echoes of horns bouncing off tall buildings. The noise was terrifying, but Stephen felt himself smiling so big, he feared he might never stop smiling.

"Angel, where are we?" Celine asked. Stephen turned around to see a massive church rising up before them. Twelve steps led to two metal doors, covered with runes. High above, a bell tower and steeple raked a blue, cloud filled sky. The air smelled like a hundred different scents at once, of mundanes and fried food and river water and life.

"Home," Stephen said.

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><p>They went inside and up a flight of stairs to the second floor. Already, Stephen could feel himself relaxing as he breathed in the warm, comforting scent of the London Institute. Someone must have been baking something sweet, as Stephen could smell vanilla and sugar just outside of the kitchen. Stephen led Celine down the hallway, past the vast Library, to an office. He knocked on the door, then walked inside and introduced Celine to Mr. and Mrs. Merryweather, who had taken over running the Institute when Marcus and Imogen retired to Idris.<p>

The Merryweathers showed Stephen and Celine to their bedroom, which was located on the Institute's fourth floor. Celine made light conversation as they walked down the third floor hallway, where most of the other Institute residents lived.

Stephen stopped at one door and pushed it up to find a room containing a small bed, a bureau, a desk, and a mirror. He felt a pang in his chest as he remembered growing up in this very room. There was a black and white ball sitting in the corner of the room. Stephen smiled and went in to retrieve the ball, overjoyed that it wasn't gone. Marcus thought Shadowhunters had no use for mundane things such as this, but the ball had been Stephen's one escape from the Shadowhunting life.

"What is that?" Celine asked.

"It's nothing," Stephen said. "It's just some silly boy's toy." Celine gave Stephen a dubious look but said nothing else.

The fourth floor contained several large apartments. Stephen and Celine were shown to one and walked in to find their trunk already sitting beside the door. The Merryweathers claimed that afternoon tea would be at four, followed by dinner at eight sharp. In the mean time, Stephen and Celine were to settle in and alert the staff if they needed anything at all.

Stephen breathed a sigh of relief when the door finally closed. He already had a vision for the honeymoon, which consisted of waking up at dawn and walking all over the city, partaking in all the delights of being home. There were friends he could meet in the park. There were also the London Shadowhunters who were dispatched every night from the London Institute. Stephen imagined joining up with them and going hunting for the worst demons London had to offer.

"Is that the Thames?" Celine asked. The apartment was very large and contained many windows, as well as a fireplace and a king size bed. Celine had a curtain pulled aside. Stephen walked over to her and looked out the window to find London stretching out in all directions surrounding the Institute.

"Yes, that's the River Thames," Stephen said. "That bridge in front of us is Blackfriar's Bridge, and the one to the right is Waterloo."

"Oh, Stephen, it's beautiful!" Celine exclaimed. She turned to Stephen and kissed him on the lips. Stephen kissed back briefly, and then stepped away. Celine pulled him back against her and slid her hands beneath his shirt. Her fingers were suddenly on the button of his pants. "Perhaps we should finish what we started last night."

"Oh, right, yes," Stephen said. Celine unbuttoned his pants and pushed her hand inside. She touched him gently as they kissed. Stephen groaned and put his hands on her shoulders to push her away. He couldn't imagine being with her, not now, and not after the pep talk Valentine had given him. "I'm starving, aren't you?"

"We just ate," Celine said. She tugged his pants down past his hips and knelt on the floor.

"Yeah, in Idris," Stephen said. "Portaling always makes me work up an appetite. Let's go to the kitchen and see if the cook has any sandwiches left over from lunch. After we eat, we'll come back and finish… this." Stephen stepped away from Celine and pulled up his pants.

"You can't keep making excuses," Celine said, standing up.

"I'm not making excuses! I can't have sex when I'm hungry. It's a fact," Stephen said. "Now are you coming with me, or are you going to stay up here and pout?" Stephen walked over to the door and pulled it open. Celine followed with an exasperated sigh.

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><p>After they had a snack in the kitchen, Stephen insisted showing Celine around the entire London Institute, top to bottom, Sanctuary to Bell Tower. The tour went until they stopped for tea, then started up again and went until dinner. After dinner, Stephen and Celine went upstairs with a bottle of wine, which Stephen had one small glass of. Celine had three glasses; her mood went from giggly to lustful, until she passed out on their bed. Then Stephen dressed in gear and went downstairs to join up with two other Shadowhunters who were going out on patrol.<p>

Stephen spent the entire night hunting with them, killing the demons that needed to be killed, then returned to the Institute for a small breakfast before he left, again, to meet friends in the park for a rousing soccer scrimmage. When Stephen returned to the Institute, Celine was sitting alone in the dining room, miffed, to say the least.

The first week of the Honeymoon followed the same order: when Stephen wasn't hunting demons or playing soccer he was sleeping. They finally consummated their marriage five days after the wedding, on a night where Stephen and Celine both drank equal amounts of wine and fell into bed together. There was nothing earth shattering about the encounter: Stephen, as drunk as he was, wore protection; Celine did all of the sorts of things Stephen enjoyed, and the ending was predictable. Afterwards, Celine fell asleep naked in their bed. Stephen drew extra Agility and Equilibrium runes to sober himself and went demon hunting.

At the start of the second week, Celine was starting to get fed up with Stephen's adopted lifestyle. She tried to confront him about it, but every time, he gave her what she wanted and it quieted her down. The second week continued as the first did: with demon hunting, soccer, and getting drunk. Towards the end of that week Stephen went out after dinner to catch up with a Shadowhunter friend and came home at four in the morning, stumbling drunk.

It became a game to see how much Celine would let him get away with. Celine passed her days studying in the library while Stephen spent his days recovering from the night before. The third week looked to continue as the first two did, that is, until Stephen came home one morning with blood all down his face and on his shirt, missing his two front teeth.

"Celine," Stephen said. He found it difficult to speak. All of his words came out with a strange, hissing lisp. "Celine, I can't find my stele." Celine rolled over in bed and glared at Stephen, for just a moment.

"By the Angel! What happened?" Celine cried. She leapt out of bed, pulled him into the bathroom, wet a wash cloth, and pressed it to his mouth. "You're missing teeth! They're going to have to grow back, you know."

"I can explain," Stephen said. "I was playing soccer in the park…"

"What's that?" Celine asked.

"It's a game," Stephen said. "I meet some guys in the park to play every morning."

"Mundanes?" Celine asked. "You play soccer with mundanes?"

"It's hard to find soccer playing Shadowhunters," Stephen said. He shrugged and gave her an innocent look. "We were playing and I was goalie and I dove to keep the ball out of the goal…" Celine threw her hands up in the air. It was as if Stephen was speaking in a different language to her. "I must have gotten kicked in the face."

"That's right, you must have," Celine said. "You got kicked in the face and now you've left your teeth in some field somewhere…. Stephen William Herondale, I will not stand for this for one more day. I came to London to take a honeymoon with my husband. I thought I married a man, not a boy who caroused every night and played soccer in the park every morning."

"What do you want me to do?" Stephen asked.

"I want you to show me London. I want to go to Buckingham Palace and the House of Parliament and I want to sit in Hyde Park and have a picnic. I want to have tea somewhere nice," Celine said. Stephen gave Celine a horrified stare.

"Why would you want to do such mundane things?" He asked.

"This from a man who got his front teeth knocked out playing soccer," Celine said.

"I'm sorry," Stephen lisped.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Thanks for reading, now, please review. Reviews are like love, you know. There can never be enough love in the world. Look! A teaser!<strong>

"Now, now, son, you know, these things, sometimes, they just happen," Valentine said.


	19. Chapter 19: That Winter

**Author's Note: I really hope you like this chapter, because this is the chapter I have been writing towards since the beginning of this story. I hope ou like it, and if you do like it, then please review it. Come on, everyone! Writing is so often a solitary task, at the very least, you could tell me you're reading this, and maybe what you think of it. Please? Otherwise, please enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 19: That Winter<strong>

After Stephen spent a sleepless night chewing on a frozen wash cloth while his teeth grew back, the honeymoon continued as usual. Stephen took Celine to every single tourist attraction in London and acted like the perfect husband. They made love nearly every single night. Whenever Celine brought up trying for a baby Stephen made up some excuse. At the end of their honeymoon, nearly eight weeks after their wedding, Celine was still not pregnant.

There was nearly a foot of snow on the ground when Stephen and Celine walked out of the Gard, back in Idris. There, they met Robert and Maryse, who rode with them to Fairchild Manor. Jocelyn welcomed them home and claimed that Valentine as busy with something. He would see them at dinner.

Once all of the catching up was done, Celine went upstairs to unpack. Stephen said he would be up shortly, then retrieved an apple from the ice box and went out to the barn. All of the manor's horses were inside the barn, as snow continued to fall in heavy flakes. Stephen went inside to find the barn smelling like straw and oats, mixed with the warm, heavy scent of horse.

Valentine only owned five horses and boarded two others for some Circle members. Nicias's stall was the last one on the right. Most of the other horses had their heads out of their stalls, all eyeing the juicy red apple in Stephen's hand. Stephen walked down to Nicias's stall to find it empty of everything: straw, grain, and horse. He searched every stall and never found his horse. He was starting to feel a large amount of concern when the barn door opened and Valentine walked in, bundled in a thick wool coat.

"Jocelyn said you were home," Valentine said.

"Where's my horse?" Stephen asked. Panic welled up in his chest as scenarios races through his brain. Maybe she had been stolen by someone. Maybe Valentine moved her to the Wayland's barn. Maybe…there had to be a simple explanation.

"You didn't get my letter?" Valentine asked. Stephen shook his head. "The morning after you left for London, I turned Nicias out with the other horses. That night, I brought her back in. She ate, she was in good spirits… everything was fine. The next morning I came out and found her lying dead in her stall. There's no explanation. Hodge was thinking she ate a plant that made her sick, but… it's awful. I am so sorry, Stephen. You must know that."

"You son of a bitch!" Stephen cried. He came at Valentine, fist pulled back, wanting to smash it into Valentine's face the way he had when Valentine reported Luke's death. Valentine grabbed Stephen around the waist and held him tightly.

"Now, now, son, you know, these things, sometimes, they just happen," Valentine said soothingly. He stroked Stephen's hair. Stephen closed his eyes, willing himself not to cry. He was unsure if he should feel angry or sad, which was the same way he felt when Isaiah died. "There is nothing any of could have been done."

"Of course not," Stephen said. He put a hand on the back of Valentine's neck and rested his cheek against Valentine's, so he could whisper in his ear, "Just rest assured. You touch my wife, and you are a dead man."

Stephen shoved Valentine away and started for the barn door.

"I would never hurt Celine," Valentine said. "Never." Stephen glared once more before walking out of the barn.

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><p>Stephen spent the next few days keeping his distance from everyone. He felt the loss of Nicias acutely, as she had been more than just a horse to him. She had been his only possession with any sort of worth. Marcus could cut Stephen off financially and even say Stephen was dead to him, and yet he never took away Stephen's one way back to the family. Now, with Nicias gone, Stephen couldn't go to Alicante, or even to visit Michael. As a result, Stephen was suddenly imprisoned at Fairchild Manor.<p>

Not that the weather would allow him to leave. Winter had arrived while Stephen and Celine were in London, and now, daily snow storms dumped snow onto Idris in near record levels. There was nothing to do but read and make love, both of which got boring quickly. Stephen began to feel numb, the way he did before the wedding. Some nights he was able to be with Celine on his terms, which meant that they used protection and didn't mention having a child. On other nights, when Celine suggested they try, Stephen couldn't desire Celine properly, and it never worked. It was those nights that Stephen hated Celine, and yet, he tried to love her, because she never said anything about his inability to pleasure her. She merely rolled onto her side and ran her fingers up and down his spine until they fell asleep together.

Meanwhile, Stephen couldn't help but hear Valentine on the nights he was intimate with Jocelyn. They made it no secret that they were trying to have another baby.

Three months to the day after the wedding, on snowy afternoon in the middle of February, Stephen was lying face down on the bed. He and Celine had gotten up and had breakfast, and then Stephen returned to the bedroom, wanting to be left alone. Fairchild Manor might have been large, but every day, Stephen felt the walls closing in on him, tighter and tighter. Some nights he woke up, gasping for breath, having dreamt of being buried alive.

The bedroom door opened and Celine walked in, carrying a package wrapped in brown paper. She pushed the bedroom door closed, then crossed the room.

"Happy Birthday," Celine said, offering the package. Stephen sat up and took the package from her.

"I forgot all about it," Stephen said. He pulled the brown paper aside and lifted up a small leather bound book with intricate runes carved into the cover. Stephen opened the book to find all of the pages blank.

"It's a journal," Celine explained. "I thought you could write things in it. It's always nice to have somewhere to put your thoughts. I promise, I'll never read it, but it's best to keep it hidden anyway. I don't want to be tempted."

"Thank you," Stephen said. "It's lovely." He closed his eyes and kissed her on the lips.

There was a knock at the door. Celine turned around quickly, then grabbed the journal from Stephen's hands and shoved it beneath a pillow. Stephen opened his mouth to ask her why she would do such a thing, but Celine shook her head sat down beside him.

"Come in!" She called. The door opened and Valentine walked in.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything…" Valentine said. Stephen wanted to laugh out loud. It always seemed like Valentine knew when Stephen and Celine were being intimate. There was also the endless supply of wine and private dinners where Stephen and Celine felt like they were the only people in the house. The pressure to conceive a child was all around, from the pregnancy tests that showed up in the bathroom, to the book of baby names found on the kitchen table one morning.

"Not at all," Celine said. "Did you need something?"

"I need Stephen, actually," Valentine said, setting his eyes upon Stephen. "Robert is here. I was hoping you might have a word with him?"

"Robert?" Stephen asked. "I have nothing to say to Robert." If there was one Circle member Stephen refused to speak to, it was Robert.

"Well, he has something to say to you. It has a lot to do with the Circle," Valentine said. "Come along. You'll be back to your beautiful wife before you know it."

Stephen climbed out of bed and followed Valentine from the room. They walked downstairs to a sitting room to find Robert standing beside a window, looking out, a scowl on his face. There was a decanter of brandy sitting on a coffee table, with two glasses. Valentine poured brandy into each glass and left the room.

"Let me guess. You hate me," Stephen said. He drank his glass of brandy, and then sprawled onto the couch.

"Herondale, I dislike this more than you will ever know," Robert said. "However, while I'm not second in command, I do care for this Circle and all of its members." Stephen looked at Robert dubiously.

"Even me?" Stephen asked.

"Even you," Robert said, with some disdain. "Valentine wanted me to talk to you about your… inability to conceive a child. It's been three months since your wedding, as you know."

"Time flies," Stephen said with a shrug. "I didn't realize you cared about what my wife and I do in the privacy of our bedroom. Am I to care about what you and Maryse do as well?"

"Leave Maryse and I out of this. After all, Alec was conceived within six weeks of our wedding, and we have another baby on the way," Robert said.

"Wow," Stephen said. "That's precision." Robert gave Stephen a smug smile.

"The purpose of your honeymoon was for you to be alone with Celine in the hopes of conceiving a child, but according to Celine, you barely had intercourse the entire time you were in London," Robert said.

"What?" Stephen asked. "Celine told you that? You?"

"She mentioned it to Jocelyn. Maybe Jocelyn told Valentine," Robert said. "So what happened in London, Stephen? Do you just not want to have a child? I mean, the Angel expects you to, and you're going against the will of the Angel…"

"I'm not… Of course I…" Stephen managed, "I don't think this is any of your business! Having a child is between my wife and I, not my wife and I and the Circle and…The Angel…"

"It just doesn't look good, you being second in command and not actively trying to conceive a child," Robert said. "So do you have, like, a problem we need to discuss?"

"By the Angel! I don't have a… problem!" Stephen spit out. "And even if I did, I would never discuss it with you!"

"Well, it's just that you're nineteen years old. You're primed, you know?" Robert asked. "It's not like you had trouble conceiving before. I don't think you even had to try with Amatis, am I right?"

"This is none of your fucking business!" Stephen exclaimed.

"Can you at least get hard?" Robert asked. Stephen jumped up and thought seriously about throwing himself out a window. His eyes got hot as they filled with tears, which was even more humiliating.

"I don't know why it's not working. I'll try harder," Stephen said.

"Good," Robert said. "Try harder."

After more merciless interrogation, Robert finally allowed Stephen to go upstairs. Stephen felt violated. Robert had made it clear that should Stephen and Celine be unable to conceive a child, it would be viewed as extremely suspicious in both the eyes of the Angel and in the eyes of the Circle.

Needless to say, Stephen was fighting mad when he finally pushed open the door to his bedroom. He walked in to find Celine sitting on the bed, dressed in lingerie that left little to the imagination. Her lips were painted red, her hair tousled like a sex kitten.

"Stephen," Celine said. "Back so soon?"

"You look like a whore," Stephen said. "It's nice to see that you're dressing the part you've played all along." Celine's mouth fell open with a gasp. "You told me to trust you! I can't! I trusted you to keep things quiet and you didn't!"

"What are you talking about?" Celine asked.

"You told Jocelyn we never had sex on our honeymoon." Stephen said. "That was between you and I. You're my wife!" The tears that Stephen held in for so long finally broke free. They fell from his eyes and rolled down his face, unstoppable.

"Jocelyn asked me why I wasn't yet pregnant. I told her we had a busy honeymoon," Celine said. "Maryse did this to me… I thought you would like it." Celine stood up and started across the room.

"Keep away from me." Stephen said. "You are nothing but a lying whore. This is what you do: you throw yourself at me, and I have been stupid enough to go along with it. Yes, I do think you broke up my marriage, and yes, I do think you just want to get pregnant. You're acting like you care about me, but you don't. You only care about making Valentine happy!"

"No, Stephen, I love you," Celine said.

"You only say that!" Stephen cried. "You came to my room when I was a married man! You made me fall in love with you because you were everything I needed. I thought you might have loved me and don't, you only say you do! I hate you! I hate you, you stupid bitch, and I want a divorce!" Stephen stormed into the bathroom, the only place he could really be alone, and sunk to the floor. He buried his face in his hands and tried to remember the exact moment his life started to fall apart.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Stephen finally ventured out of the bathroom to find Celine sitting on the bed. She was wearing a pair of baggy cotton pajama pants with a matching shirt. Her hair was pulled back haphazardly. She was leafing through a book and munching on licorice. Celine's eyes were red from crying, but contained no tears.<p>

"I meant what I said," Stephen whispered. "I'll leave. I don't want this anymore." Celine looked up and fixed her eyes on Stephen. There was ferocity in her look, something Stephen hadn't seen since the night of Luke's memorial.

"Do you think I wanted any of this?" Celine asked. "When I was a little girl, I pictured my married life, and it was nothing like this. Do you really think I wanted to be nothing more than a common whore? Do you think I wanted to sneak into your room and offer myself to you, like some prostitute? Do you think I wanted to be the reason why you divorced Amatis? Valentine made me."

"You expect me to believe that?" Stephen asked. "It's called freewill, sweetheart. He never made you do anything." Celine smiled.

"Right, just like he never made you do anything," Celine said. "If you opened your eyes, you would have seen that I've been on your side the whole time. Do you really think you're the only person he's brainwashed into doing his bidding?"

"Brainwashed?" Stephen asked. He recalled hearing that word once before, from Luke, the night after Isaiah's funeral… which was the same night Luke went hunting with Valentine and never came home.

"The thing about Valentine is this: he'll never force you into doing anything. He'll only give you a means to fulfill your dreams, but it's not your dreams you're fulfilling, it's his," Celine said. "You are nothing but a means to an end, just like me. Valentine had a plan all along, and you and I played right into his hand."

"How?" Stephen asked. He crossed the room and sat down on the bed. Celine reached over, took Stephen's hand, and looked into his eyes.

"You could say I was the first member of the Circle of Raziel…," Celine began. "I was seven when my parents were killed. Immediately after their deaths I came to live with Valentine's family. His parents already opposed the Accords and had a sizeable grudge against Downworlders. They viewed all werewolves and vampires and even fairies and warlocks as creatures who were less than Shadowhunters. Valentine was raised to hate the Downworlders, to kill first and ask questions later. He was 16 when his parents were killed by werewolves, and their deaths changed him for the worst."

"The Circle was started right after. Luke swore his parabatai vow to Valentine and became his second in command, and as Valentine stayed at the Academy, first as a student and later as a mentor, the Circle only grew. Even then, Valentine had a plan in mind. I was 13 the night he came home covered in blood, swearing that he was attacked by a vampire and fought back to defend himself, killing the vampire in the process. I believed him; after all, I knew Downworlders were evil since my parents died at the hands of a warlock. "They need to be stopped," Valentine would say. "If no one else is going to do it, why shouldn't I?"

"I didn't tell anyone what Valentine was thinking. What was I going to do? He was the only family I had left, so I kept quiet. I started to do what he asked of me. When Valentine had meetings, I came along and provided snacks. Luke and I grew close, and then we began sleeping together. Valentine encouraged it. He used to joke that we would be able to provide the second generation of Circle members. It should have been wrong… By then I was still only 15… but I loved Luke, and my loving Luke kept Valentine happy. He was glad to see I could be provided for, and who better to marry his sister than his second in command?"

Stephen closed his eyes and wished her were elsewhere. The entire story seemed so familiar; it was like he had already lived it once.

"As his parabatai, Luke loved Valentine, and whatever Valentine said was as good as the Law. Luke began to be a part of Valentine's plans. In the Circle, Valentine always preached that he wanted to reform the laws, but with Luke, and later, Hodge, Valentine began to hatch the plan to slaughter the Downworlders at the Accords. Meanwhile, Valentine started pressure Luke into marrying me, and we considered it. I thought Luke could be my way out of the Circle, because for as much as Luke loved Valentine, Luke also knew that what Valentine was planning was wrong. Luke and I thought we might get married and run off together… but then Jocelyn and Valentine got together. They got engaged and married and Luke wanted to stay for Jocelyn. He was worried about her being with Valentine, and couldn't bear to leave her. He loved her, and couldn't love me… so… we broke up."

"That's why Valentine threw your relationship with Luke in your face," Stephen realized.

"Exactly," Celine said. "After the breakup, Valentine wanted me to think that no one would ever love me again. I believed him, for a long time… and then you showed up. Valentine was beginning to question Luke's commitment to the Circle. He wanted a second in command who was hungry to prove himself and you fit the part perfectly."

"From the night of your Initiation, Valentine's been giving you choices, already knowing your answer. He forced you to kill a vampire because he knew you would fight for your life: after all, you had a wife and child on the way. He trained you like a dog: you killed a vampire; you woke up to a pretty girl at your bedside. Your son died and he gave you a shoulder to cry on. Your father turned his back on you and Valentine made himself someone you could look up to. You stole the Mortal Cup and I was there for you again. You felt awful for cheating on Amatis, and Valentine gave you a way out. Valentine told you to stay away from me and you did the exact opposite because it was in your very nature to disobey authority. Valentine never blackmailed you- he gave you a choice and you kept making the wrong decisions… just like me. I could have run away, but I chose to stay."

"Why?" Stephen asked.

"Because I loved Luke, and I love you," Celine said. She put her hands on his face, but Stephen pulled away. He understood that Celine was just another puppet Valentine pulled the strings for, only Celine knew what was going on and should have stopped it.

"You destroyed my marriage," Stephen whispered. "I loved her, Celine. You…"

"There are things I might never forgive myself for," Celine said. "I had good reason to stay. Before Luke died, he had a plan. The Clave would never persecute Valentine, not without evidence, and Valentine would never give them that. The Circle can only be taken down from the inside. That was Luke's plan, until he died. The reason I stayed…besides you… is that there is another group of people within the Circle, who want to see Valentine brought to justice. They're known as The Uprising, and I'm one of them."

Stephen felt his jaw drop. He thought he knew his wife, but this?

"What's the plan?" Stephen asked.

"I'm not stupid enough to tell you that. Not with you so close to Valentine," Celine said. "You're going to have to trust me, Stephen. I promise, I'll get us out of this mess. Soon enough, Valentine will pay for his sins."

Stephen couldn't explain what came next. He only knew that suddenly he had Celine down on the bed as he ripped her shirt off and pulled her pants down. Celine jerked Stephen's shirt over his head and shoved his pants off. Then there was hot skin on skin and wet tears on both of their faces. Celine held Stephen close as he pressed into her. She arched her back and raked her nails down his back, hurting him.

Stephen's focus sharpened. He saw Celine not as the girl she was, but as so much more. She was his wife, his partner in crime, his way out of the abyss he found himself in. When Stephen felt like nothing more than a pawn in some sick game, Celine was one last, desperate move that gave him hope.

Stephen kissed Celine's lips, gasping as they sobbed together. This was the first time Stephen really felt Celine beneath him as he truly recognized her as his wife. This wasn't sex, but rather something bigger.

It was over minutes later. Stephen bit Celine on the shoulder as he came and laid his head against Celine's chest as they each gave up the last of their tears. They fell asleep together and woke up later in one another's arms.

"I don't want to have a child. Not until after the Accords," Stephen said. He kissed Celine on the cheek as she curved her body against his.

"Can we run off together then?" Celine asked.

"We can go anywhere," Stephen replied. "Anywhere."

The next week was quiet. The snow began to melt and bring with it a promise of spring. Stephen and Celine played their usual roles with renewed vigor. One time, Valentine walked into a room to find Stephen with his pants around his ankles as Celine writhed, half dressed, against him. Valentine could barely contain his delight. All seemed well, that was, until, two weeks after Celine's confession, a baby began to scream and cry in the house once more.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Please review. I would love to hear your feedback about the events of this chapter in particular, due to what has happened. Please? Did you love the chapter? Hate it? See it coming? Please let me know. Here's a teaser:<strong>

"You went to see her, didn't you?" Celine asked. "You met her in the café and you…"


	20. Chapter 20: Secrets and Lies

**Author's Note: Some of you already know, some of you don't, so I'll formally announce that I made the incredibly rash move in starting an original story for NaNoWriMo… while still working on this story. Long story short, I could really use some encouragement, so please review! The more reviews the quicker I will update! Also, thanks to my anonymous reviewer, feel free to send more anonymous reviews, I don't mind, I just like knowing this fic is being read. Please know that I am committed to this fic, until the end. Enjoy this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. They all belong to Cassandra Clare. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 20: Secrets and Lies<strong>

Two years before Stephen came to Idris, espresso came to Idris. Of course, tea and coffee had existed there long before then, brought over from the mundane world by Shadowhunters who preferred to have a little pep in their step. Never before did the Shadowhunters have espresso, or, all of the things that could be made with espresso. Once they got hooked on lattes, cappuccinos, and macchiatos all topped with whip cream and sweet syrup, there was no going back. The Shadowhunting world was forever changed.

And so it was, four weeks after Celine's confession, that Stephen found himself sitting in the back of a coffee shop, his hands shaking and his nerves shot as he drank espresso and milk. Every night for the last two weeks brought the same torment of the screaming infant locked somewhere in the house. Every day brought Valentine's inescapable scrutiny of Stephen and Celine's lives within the walls of Fairchild Manor. It was the beginning of March, eight months before the Accords were to be signed, and Valentine's madness was coming to the surface.

Once the snow melted, Stephen went hunting twice with Valentine. One time, they had sat beside a lake for half a night before some faeries climbed out of the water. Then they attacked with no reason, killing all of the faeries, until there were no witnesses left. It was a dark time for Stephen, to know there was a way out, but that, for the greater good, he needed to stay in the Circle, keep close to Valentine, and hope that one day, he and Celine would be free.

The one thing Stephen could change was his currant living situation, which was why he had come to Alicante with Celine . Once there, Stephen sent Celine to do the grocery shopping while he went to get coffee at a nearby café.

The bell over the door chimed and a woman walked in, dressed in riding clothes. She sat down across from Stephen and took his hand. Stephen looked up into his mother's eyes as his vision clouded with sudden, unexpected tears.

"Stephen," Imogen breathed. She took in the dark circles beneath his eyes and the paleness of his skin.

"I can only sleep an hour a night. I thought everything would be okay, but now… I want to come home," Stephen said. "You have to make father let me come home."

Imogen sat back in her seat so that only her finger tips rested against Stephen's.

"Why now?" Imogen asked. "You've been out of the Academy for nine months. You had a home of your own, and then you moved to Fairchild Manor. What made you want to come home?" Stephen took a deep breath as all of the reasons why rushed through his mind. He was so dangerously close to telling his mother everything. He should have never requested they meet. He should have never asked her this one thing.

"I can't tell you," Stephen said.

"Is it Celine? Or Jocelyn?" Imogen asked. Stephen shook his head.

"Things have happened that I can't talk about, mother. I have done terrible, terrible things, you must know that. I want to tell everyone what is going on, but… I can't," Stephen said. His voice cracked and he finally broke down in tears. "I must stay the course and play the hand I've been dealt, but I really need my family right now. Please, mum, is that so much to ask?"

"I'll see what I can do," Imogen said. "That's all I can do."

Stephen left the café not long after, leaving his mother behind. Celine only knew that Stephen was meeting someone, and Stephen didn't want her to know who, not yet, anyway. He was afraid of being seen with his mother as well. At last count, the Circle was up to nearly a hundred members, and if it got back to Valentine that Stephen was meeting with Clave loyalists, the consequences could be cataclysmic. Stephen didn't want to believe that Valentine was capable of murdering Shadowhunters who got in his way, but then again, Stephen was starting to feel unsure of what Valentine was capable of.

The streets of Alicante were bustling as usual. Now that the long winter had past, everyone was eager to get out of their houses and become social once more. There were flowers blooming everywhere, and their sweet scent made Stephen sneeze again and again. He wandered down a street, looking into shop windows, admiring a set of hunting gear in one shop, oriental art work in another. When he came to the end of one street, he turned right onto another, and snaked his way down streets, moving further away from Market Square.

Stephen kept walking until he ended up beside a canal filled with fast flowing water from the spring thaw. He tossed a flower bud into the water and watched it float away, then turned around to see that he was standing in front of the canal house he and Amatis had once shared.

It looked the same as it had at this time last year, when Stephen signed his name to the deed that made the house his. It was obvious that Amatis still lived there, as she had planted flowers in the front flower boxes and even placed a large planter filled with orange flowers on the front steps. The front window facing the street was open, with curtains fluttering in the breeze. Stephen knew he could walk up to the door, right now, and knock. He only wanted to see Amatis, only to know if she was alright.

In the darkest moments of the winter, Stephen thought about Amatis. He wondered if she ever got over him, and, if she had, did she find someone else to love? Did she think about him the way he thought about her? Did she miss him? Had she believed Stephen when he said that their marriage was a mistake, or did she know that he had only said that to convince the Silent Brothers? Would she ever forgive him?

"Can I help you with something?" A man asked. Stephen jumped and turned to the man. There was something familiar about him, as if he was a neighbor Stephen talked to once or twice before. Stephen looked at the man's clothing, which was tattered and faded, and then down at his own clothing, which consisted of tailored pants, a fine black jacket with brass buttons on it, and a pair of shiny black boots so new, they rubbed blisters on Stephen's heels. Stephen didn't fit in this neighborhood, which was meant for the poorer residents of Alicante. He might have lived here for a few months, but now, he was an outsider, and therefore, suspicious.

"I'm just passing through," Stephen said. The man scowled and Stephen hurried down the street, not bothering to look back at the house.

Celine was standing in the midst of Market Square when Stephen got back. She had her arms folded, and as soon as Stephen got close, she stormed over to him.

"Where have you been?" Celine exclaimed.

"I went to meet someone, you know that," Stephen said.

"Who?" Celine asked. "We aren't going to keep secrets, remember?"

"That's pretty hypocritical coming from you. Our entire relationship has been built on secrets and lies, remember?" Stephen retorted.

"That's different," Celine said.

"Of course it is," Stephen said. He couldn't help but notice that he was adopting Valentine's passive aggressive attitude towards conflict. Valentine rolled his eyes and told Stephen what he wanted to hear in the same way that Stephen did to Celine.

Over the last few weeks Celine had become increasingly unbearable as far as her attitude was concerned. As it was, they were either ripping each other's clothes off, or trying to act happy when they were anything but.

"You went to see her, didn't you?" Celine asked. "You met her in the café and you…"

"Angel, Celine, who are you talking about?" Stephen asked. "You can't go off spouting pronouns…"

"Amatis," Celine said. Stephen felt his breath catch in his throat. Just Celine saying the name made Amatis feel real, as if he managed to forget that she was actually a part of his past, and not a marriage he merely dreamed. "You saw her, didn't you?"

"No. I haven't seen her since…" Stephen began. "I didn't go see her, alright? There's no need to. What's done is done. I divorced her, and now…"

"You see her every night in your dreams," Celine said. "Don't deny it. Just last night…"

"You're being hysterical," Stephen said, but he knew Celine was right.

On the nights Stephen could sleep, he dreamt of many awful things, of vampires and babies dying. Amatis played a role as well. Just the night before, Stephen saw himself in the Silent City with Amatis, right after their runes were sliced. Amatis turned to Stephen, covering the wound over her heart as it bled. Blood blossomed between her fingers, hemorrhaging harder and faster, while Stephen stayed rooted in one spot, unable to do anything but watch Amatis bleed to death before his eyes. He screamed and cried, but Amatis bled until she could bleed no more, and then, she died of a broken heart.

"Stephen," Celine begged. She grabbed him by the arms and shook him, breaking him out of his reverie. Stephen blinked quickly and looked down to see Celine's eyes filled with tears. "I need to know you're with me on this. There can't be any secrets between us. Now tell me the truth, did you go see her?"

"No!" Stephen exclaimed. "Just because I cheated on her with you doesn't mean I'll cheat on you with her. How am I supposed to trust you if you can't even trust me?"

"I just want to know who you went to see," Celine said. "Please, Stephen."

"I went to see my mother. I had… I needed to discuss something with her," Stephen said. He looked around at the people milling about and wished he didn't have to think about every word he said, for fear someone might over hear. "Come on, let's go." Stephen grabbed Celine by the arm and pulled her to the carriage.

* * *

><p>They went back to the manor, unloaded groceries, and then Stephen fell into bed with Celine and woke up later when she dropped an envelope onto his face. Stephen opened the envelope and pulled out a letter written in his mother's precise handwriting.<p>

_Stephen,_

_Your father is unwell and requests that you come to the manor to assist with the spring foaling season.  
><em>_He is sorry for disowning you, and welcomes you and your wife home with open arms._

_Love always,  
><em>_Mum_

"What is it?" Celine asked.

"We're moving," Stephen replied, and kissed Celine on the lips.

* * *

><p>Dinner that evening was roast beef and potatoes. Jocelyn had cooked the entire meal and was now trying to get Jonathan to eat a bowl of strained peas he was more interested in throwing about the kitchen. Valentine smiled and tried his luck while Jocelyn turned to her plate of food.<p>

"We should get used to busy and disruptive suppers," Valentine said. Jonathan opened his mouth, obediently, and took a spoon full of peas offered by his father.

"Valentine," Jocelyn said, looking into her husband's dark eyes.

"Oh, we'll tell them. Jocelyn and I are expecting… once again," Valentine said.

"It's early, anything can happen," Jocelyn said, glancing at Stephen.

"This so exciting!" Celine said. "How far along are you? When are you due?"

"October," Jocelyn said.

"You wasted no time at all," Stephen said, nodding to Valentine, who looked convincingly sheepish.

"Yes, indeed, unlike yourself," Valentine said.

"The spirit is willing," Stephen said. He lifted his glass of wine and had a sip. "I received word from my mother this evening. My father is unwell, and my mother asks that I come home to assist with the horses. They have a few pregnant mares which are going to give birth in a few weeks."

"You're moving out?" Valentine asked. Stephen reached over and clasped Celine's hand.

"My father is unwell," Stephen said. "Being his only son, I'm concerned. Herondale Manor isn't far away, I would still be able to be at your beck and call as your second in command. I just fear that if I refuse my mother's request… she could become suspicious."

"But your father disowned you. You are dead to him," Valentine said.

"Be that as it may, my father is not dead to me," Stephen said. "My father doesn't understand unconditional love the way I do." Stephen took another sip of his wine, trying to ignore Valentine's eyes on him. Even Jonathan seemed to stare.

"Excuse me," Celine said. She put a hand over her mouth and hurried from the kitchen. Stephen watched her go.

"I think it's best you stay here," Valentine said. "You're important to my plan, Stephen. I need you here as my second in command…"

"I'll be here whenever you need me," Stephen said. "It's just that… it's been a long winter, and Celine and I have been trying so hard to have a baby. I was thinking that perhaps a change of scene just might be what Celine and I need to… you know."

"I know," Valentine said. He gave Jonathan another spoonful of strained peas, then brushed a lock of white blond hair off the baby's forehead. "I lost my father when I was 16. Not a day goes by that I wish I had more time with him. If you're going to be happy living with your parents, I can't force you to stay here."

"Thank you," Stephen said.

"You may go with my blessing," Valentine said.

After dessert, Stephen and Celine went upstairs to their bedroom. Celine fell into bed and was asleep within minutes. Stephen pulled out the journal Celine had given him, as well as a fountain pen, and began writing a letter.

* * *

><p>On the day that Stephen and Celine moved into Herondale Manor, Marcus was suspiciously absent. Imogen made conversation with Celine while Stephen directed Robert and Michael as they carried things in. Then anyone related to the Circle was gone, and Imogen left Stephen and Celine to the business of settling in. Stephen fell into a large, soft bed and pulled Celine after him. They fell asleep fully clothed and woke up twelve hours later.<p>

Suddenly, every bit of pressure that was present in Fairchild Manor disappeared. Stephen and Celine started to split their days between only sleep and wakefulness. They went to the occasional Circle meeting, but also spent time together. There were ample opportunities to conceive a child, but Stephen didn't want that, and when they did make love, he was careful. Celine, meanwhile, started studying in the Library and also napped often. She was changing before Stephen's very eyes, becoming less of a silly girl and more of a refined woman.

Marcus kept his distance from Stephen, making it clear that it wasn't his decision that Stephen move home. Meals were often quiet, and Marcus never spoke to Celine or Stephen unless he had to. Still, Marcus was allowing them to live under his roof, which was progress.

One night after dinner Stephen and Celine joined his parents in a parlor for drinks before bed. Celine wanted to play chess, so Stephen set up a board close to the fireplace.

"Chess is not a woman's game," Marcus said, not bothering to look up from his book.

"My wife can play whatever game she wants," Stephen said. He sat across from Celine at a table. He had taught her how to play chess on their honeymoon and yet Celine was still terrible at the game. This time, she made the first move. Stephen took one of her pawns, and then resisted taking another. Playing chess with Celine wasn't really a challenge, not the way a game between Stephen and Marcus was. It was Marcus who taught Stephen how to play, and Marcus who never once lost a game.

Celine looked over the board, then picked up her knight and moved it in an L-shaped pattern to take out one of Stephen's pawns, placing her knight in the path of his rook.

"Who taught you how to play chess?" Marcus demanded. Celine pointed to Stephen, shocked at Marcus's question. Marcus stood up, crossed the room, and looked over the board. "Angel, girl, is this a game of chess or a slaughter fest?"

"Her name is Celine," Stephen offered.

"Stand up. Move. This girl is sacrificing chess pieces like they are of no use to her," Marcus said. Stephen stood up and Marcus sat in his chair, across from Celine. "Now listen, girl, just because the knight as strident limitations doesn't mean that it can't be an integral part of the game. You can't use it to just take out pawns at will. And you must think three moves ahead at all times! Now watch…"

Stephen walked over to the couch and sat beside Imogen. Celine asked a question and Marcus answered it in his crisp tone, and then smiled to soften the blow. Celine returned the smile and paid close attention to Marcus's lesson.

"It's good to have you home," Imogen said.

"It's good to be home," Stephen said.

* * *

><p>March turned into April as Stephen continued to live his double life. At Fairchild Manor, and, increasingly, at Wayland Manor, Stephen was the perfect second in command to Valentine, always prepared to pledge his absolute fidelity to the Circle. Whenever he went hunting with Valentine, Stephen was sure to appear ruthless. One night he stabbed a werewolf over and over again as Valentine cheered him on. When he came home that night, it was Celine who scrubbed the blood from beneath his fingernails and drew comforting runes on his skin, just to help ease his agony. At Herondale Manor, Stephen sat at every meal and pretended that everything was perfect. Every night he fell asleep with Celine in his arms as he dreamed of Amatis. The nightmares continued.<p>

Whenever a nightmare woke Stephen up to the point that he could not sleep, he brought out his journal and pen and write another letter, quickly filling up the pages of his journal with his thoughts. He didn't dare send the letters, not yet anyway.

Stephen was writing one morning in the early, predawn light beside a window when there was a soft knock at the door. He went to the door and opened it.

"Your father wants to know if you would come down to the barn. There is a mare struggling with her labor, and your father can't deliver the foal on his own," Imogen said.

"Tell him I'll be right there," Stephen said. He dressed quickly and went out to the barn to find his father in a mare's stall. The mare's neck was covered with sweat, her body rigid with contractions, her stomach swollen to the point of bursting.

"I can only see one foot instead of two," Marcus remarked grimly. "Can you hold her head? I'm going to try to maneuver the foal to see of that helps. Otherwise…" There was always a chance that the foal could die, as well as the mother.

Stephen had been helping his father with the mares for as long as he could remember. He had been present at Nicias's birth, as well as the births of countless other foals and it was nothing for him to kneel beside the mare's head and hold her halter. Marcus did what he needed to do, and once it was done, he and Stephen moved from the stall as the mare stood up and delivered a tiny foal which then lay helpless on the stall floor. The mare worked to clean it, then nudged the tiny horse until it climbed unsteadily to its feet.

"A colt," Stephen said.

"A fine looking one at that," Marcus agreed. "Let's call him Cimon." There was a tradition in the Herondale family of naming horses after Greek military officials.

"I like that name," Stephen said. The foal attempted to trot over to his mother and instead ended up in a heap of long legs on the stall floor.

"I don't know how long you plan on staying around. It will be some time before he could be of use, but he can be yours to train. ," Marcus said.

"Of course," Stephen said. "Thank you, father."

"You're welcome," Marcus said. He lifted his hand, hesitated, and then patted Stephen on the back. "You know… I'm sorry, for how things have been between us. I want you to know that it's nice to have you beneath my roof again. I feel like you're out of trouble and where I can keep an eye on you."

"I'm glad to be back," Stephen said. He gave his father a brief smile and turned to look at the foal once more. The tiny horse was dark brown, with a stripe of white running up its face. In just a few weeks, it would be able to join the other foals out in the pasture.

Marcus rested his hand on Stephen's shoulder. Stephen didn't say anything. The last time his father had even remotely touched him was a brief hug the morning of Stephen's wedding to Amatis. Marcus wasn't big on gestures of affection.

"Your mother and I only want to see your happy, safe, and taken care of," Marcus said. "When you do things like join the Circle and marry two girls in a span of five months, we worry. Your mother and I aren't going to be around forever, but we don't want to outlive you either. Please, son, be careful with your life!"

"I'll be careful, father," Stephen said. "Don't worry, father. Everything is going to be fine."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: I can't say much about the next chapter. It's short and to the point. Here's a teaser:<strong>

Stephen closed his eyes and opened them; all the while thinking that Jocelyn couldn't have meant what she said. She had to have been lying.

**Now review! Please? In fact, if I get five reviews for this chapter, anonymous or not, i'll post the entire paragraph those sentences show up in. You guys can't have all the fun! **


	21. Chapter 21: Revelations

**Author's Note: You guys are simply no fun. It would be nice to see some reviews. Thanks to whoever left the anonymous review, feel free to keep them coming, anonymous or otherwise. Enjoy this chapter!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 21: Revelations<strong>

Stephen's days at Herondale Manor continued to be blissful. Everything was perfect, and looked to continue to be perfect, until one afternoon Stephen came downstairs to find Jocelyn having tea with his mother at the dining room table. He was surprised to see her, and more so, surprised to see her without Valentine.

"I'll leave you both," Imogen said. She patted Jocelyn on the hand and left the dining room.

"Did you want to see Celine? Or…" Stephen began.

"I'm here to see you. Might we go somewhere… Private?" Jocelyn asked. Stephen walked out of the dining room. He went outside with Jocelyn on his heels, stopped beneath an apple tree, and turned to regard Jocelyn. This pregnancy seemed to agree with her, unlike her pregnancy with Jonathan. Jocelyn's skin radiated warmth. She had the pregnancy glow Stephen always heard about.

"Why are you here?" Stephen asked. "Celine and I are trying our best. I don't know what's taking so long." Jocelyn held up her hand and shook her head.

"I know what Celine told you, about the Circle," Jocelyn said. Stephen remained impassive. He wished there was a code word, or something, that Jocelyn could say, but all Stephen had to go on was that one time, she told Stephen to run and report Valentine. Had that really been six months ago?

"What about the Circle?" Stephen asked. He looked out into the horse pasture. Cimon had been turned out with his mother for the first time today. Stephen had sat beside the fence all morning, like a doting father, worried that the older foals might bully the youngest foal. They hadn't, and Cimon had held his own regardless.

"I know that Celine told you there is a group of people within the Circle, known as the Uprising," Jocelyn said.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Stephen said.

"Stephen," Jocelyn said. She grabbed his hand and jerked his body close to hers, then put her hands on his face and pulled his ear close to her mouth. If Stephen moved the slightest bit, he could kiss her on the lips, which wasn't the worst idea he ever had. He always held a place in his heart for the only red head he ever met. "I'm here about Luke. He is alive."

Stephen pushed Jocelyn away from him and ran a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes and opened them; all the while thinking that Jocelyn couldn't have meant what she said. She had to have been lying. Stephen saw Valentine covered in blood. He heard the raw emotion in Valentine's voice the night the Circle laid Luke's memory to rest. Luke had been killed in a werewolf attack. Luke was dead.

"He can't be," Stephen said. "You're lying to me."

"I've seen him," Jocelyn said. "The werewolves didn't kill him, they only hurt him severely. He became… one of them." Stephen felt a wave of nausea come over him. To think of all the werewolves he had killed since Luke's supposed death, and to know Luke could have been one of them… the thought was almost too much to bear. "There's more. Luke became leader of a pack in the Brocelind Forest. They know about Valentine's plan for the Accords. You should expect a battle, rather than an ambush." Stephen rolled his eyes. He had no idea how many people were in the Uprising, but it still felt like the Circle was bigger. Even with the werewolves on their side, the Accords were shaping up to be a bloody battle.

"Valentine knew that Luke was still alive, didn't he?" Stephen asked.

"There is no way of telling…" Jocelyn began.

"Jocelyn," Stephen said.

"Valentine told me about ripping the Circle amulet from Luke's neck. He told Luke to kill himself, rather than become a werewolf. For Valentine's purposes, Luke was dead," Jocelyn said.

"For Valentine's purposes," Stephen said. Never mind that Amatis thought she lost her brother and the Circle lost someone who was a close friend. No, Luke got in Valentine's way, and so Valentine did away with him.

"Stephen. You must not tell anyone, and especially not Celine. From what I know, Celine loved Luke, and the shock of finding out that he is still alive… She can only take so much right now," Jocelyn said.

"I need to see him," Stephen said. "Brocelind Forest, you say?"

"He doesn't want to see you," Jocelyn said. "He knows about you and Amatis…"

"Brocelind Forest?" Stephen repeated.

"Close to the eastern border," Jocelyn said. Stephen turned away from her, debating whether to go inside to tell Celine he was leaving, or to go to the barn, saddle a horse, and light out for Brocelind. "Stephen, there's more." Stephen spun around to find Jocelyn smiling triumphantly. "Expect to have an emergency Circle meeting at any time."

"For what?" Stephen asked. Jocelyn shrugged.

* * *

><p>In the end, Stephen went upstairs and dressed in riding gear. Celine was sleeping in bed, having felt ill earlier in the day, so Stephen didn't bother to wake her up. Instead, he kissed her cheek and went back downstairs. He called to his mother that he was going riding, and then went out to the barn to saddle Lysander, one of the Herondale stallions. They took off at a brisk trot towards the east. Once into the woods, Stephen urged the horse faster, and rode at a hard gallop for an hour, to the edge of Brocelind Plain.<p>

Stephen had been there before, with Valentine and the rest of the Circle, the night they killed a family of werewolves and burned a cabin to the ground. The Forest lay across the Plain, which was otherwise an open field broken up by a few trees. This was werewolf territory, a place that Shadowhunters rarely tread. Dressed in gear but unarmed, Stephen was tempting fate by coming here.

Entering the Forest was another move of insanity, yet Stephen rode around, searching for the wolf pack. The Forest stunk of werewolf, which wasn't an unpleasant scent, but was overpowering. There were tracks everywhere, and occasionally, Stephen came across the skeleton of a deer picked clean. Finally, he found a clearing filled with small shelters. There was meat cooking over a fire, as well as a garden a man was tending to.

Stephen dismounted from his horse and approached slowly. The man was shirtless but dressed in ripped pants. His hands dug into the soil, stirring the rich earth up. The man was all muscles and sinew, the body of an animal shoved into the skin of a man. Werewolves had near super human strength, even when they were in human form.

"Excuse me, I…" Stephen began. The man continued working, ignoring Stephen. "I was wondering if you knew if…" Stephen stepped closer, wondering if the man was deaf. "Excuse me?"

A deep snarl came from the man, who leapt up, spun around, pulled his fist back, and punched Stephen in the shoulder. Stephen staggered backwards and fell onto his backside as the man leapt onto him and punched him once more, then kneed Stephen just beneath his ribs. Stephen reached up, trying to fight the man off, but felt fur in his hands. He opened his eyes to see a set of white teeth bearing down on his neck. The man was suddenly less man, and more wolf.

"No, please, no!" Stephen cried. "I'm sorry for what I did! I'm sorry!" He thought he was losing his mind as he watched the wolf's form shift back into that of a man who was bigger and hairier than Luke had ever been. Luke's features, however, were the same. Being a werewolf was becoming of him. "Luke."

Luke wrapped a hand around Stephen's throat, lifted him from the ground, and hung him from a tree branch by the back of his shirt. He pulled out a knife and pressed it against Stephen's windpipe.

"Give me three reasons why I shouldn't put this knife through your throat, Shadowhunter," Luke said. Stephen tried to take a breath but was being strangled by his shirt. "I didn't hear you, Shadowhunter."

"Celine," Stephen said. Luke's face softened just the slightest bit.

"And?" Luke asked.

"Jocelyn."

"And?"

"I don't have another reason!" Stephen cried. Luke pressed the knife into the thin flesh of Stephen's neck. "The Uprising! I know about The Uprising!"

"And?"

"I'm on your side," Stephen said. Luke lifted his knife and sliced the back of Stephen's shirt, dropping him to the ground. He put a knee to Stephen's back and pressed Stephen's face into a soft bed of pine needles.

"And?" Luke asked. Stephen squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself not to cry. He was running out of reasons, or, maybe, they weren't the reasons Luke wanted to hear.

"I'm unarmed. Check. I come in peace," Stephen said. He felt Luke checking his hips, his waist, and the insides of his wrists, all for weapons. Luke pressed down hard on Stephen's back, so that his spine cracked. Stephen cried out in pain.

"And?" Luke asked.

"I'm sorry about Amatis," Stephen said. "It was all part of Valentine's plan… and Celine's. I meant no harm. I'm sorry, Luke. I'm so sorry. I loved her, you must know that." Luke stood up and stepped away. Stephen rolled into his back and sat up slowly. "You violated the Accords, you know, by harming a Shadowhunter." Luke pulled back a fist, this time aiming for Stephen's face. Stephen put his hands up and begged for mercy.

"Why are you here?" Luke demanded. Stephen climbed to his feet. He considered brushing the dirt off his backside, then thought better of it. He was, after all, completely covered in dirt.

"Jocelyn said you were alive and I had to see for myself," Stephen said.

Luke held his arms out at his sides. "See?"

"She said you became a werewolf," Stephen said. Luke nodded. "Celine told me you had a plan for the Uprising, but I shouldn't know about it, because I was so close to Valentine."

"Second in command, so I heard," Luke said. "Not Robert? Or Michael? He picked you?" Stephen shrugged. "He was grooming you for greatness. I shouldn't be surprised. Isn't this what you always wanted? To be known for something?"

"No," Stephen said. "If I could take it all back, I would have never joined the Circle. I would have stayed married to Amatis, moved with her to London…We would have had a son together." Luke nodded.

"Yes, but you can't do that, now can you?" Luke asked.

"I'm sorry," Stephen said. "I wish I had never joined the Circle. I hate Valentine. I just want to kill him. I want to make things right… or as right as I can get them."

"He wasn't so bad, in the beginning," Luke said. "He had a good idea… and the best of intentions. But like you, he got lost along the way." Luke stared down at the ground, lapsing into silence. It was a minute before he spoke once again. "Why did you even come here? I don't want you here. You hurt my sister. You made all the wrong decisions. You say you're going to make it right, but that doesn't make up for your wrongs."

"I'm sorry," Stephen said. "I still love her, Luke. I'll always love Amatis."

"That doesn't help, now that you're married to Celine, now does it?" Luke asked. He kicked the ground with the toe of his boot. "I want you to leave here, and never come back. I never want to see your face again. I don't care if you're on my side or not. I never want to see you again."

"Luke," Stephen said.

"Leave, and never come back," Luke repeated. He turned his back on Stephen and walked towards a collection of shelters, leaving Stephen behind.

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><p>Stephen got lost twice on the way home. A storm blew in and pelted him with rain, and the sun was long gone by the time Stephen settled his horse into the barn and climbed the front steps of the manor house. He kicked his boots off in the front foyer, and walked down to the kitchen to find the lights on. Marcus sat at the kitchen table, his hand on top of Celine's. Imogen was pacing back and forth, her face stained with tears.<p>

"Is everything okay?" Stephen asked.

"Stephen William!" Imogen cried. She rushed to him and pulled him against her body, starting to cry. "Where have you been? We've been worried sick!"

"I went…" Stephen began, and the he realized he couldn't tell Celine where he went, because then she would want to go there to. "I went for a ride."

"Where?" Marcus asked. "Where did you go for a ride, for the last six hours? You worried your mother, your wife is a mess…" Celine looked up at Stephen, her eyes vacant.

"I lost track of time," Stephen said. He managed to get away from his mother only to be grabbed by his father and pulled into a rough hug.

"You can't tell us you've done awful things then just disappear! Damnit, Stephen! We thought…Celine told us about the incident with the knife, before the wedding. We thought you were dead, that you… killed yourself," Marcus said.

"No, never. I'm sorry. I just needed to clear my head," Stephen said. Celine covered her mouth with a hand as she began to cry. "I'm sorry, Celine. I didn't mean to worry you. It will never happen again." Stephen knelt beside her chair and took her other hand, which had been resting on her lower stomach. "I'm sorry."

"I'm pregnant," Celine said. Stephen stood up slowly and turned to his parents. It was the second time in his life he saw his father sorry for him.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Okay, now, I know of at least two of you who have been waiting for that moment for a while. So Review! Thanks for Reading! Here's a teaser:<strong>

"No. It's been a little while since you saw someone suffer," Valentine said.


	22. Chapter 22: Mizpah

**Author's Note: Thanks for all of the wonderful reviews for the last chapter. They mean so much to me, just to know that the story is being enjoyed enough to merit reviews. Please enjoy this chapter, and review!**

**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. I also do not own "Mizpah." Credit for that goes to where credit is due, which is Genesis 31:49, and… Clockwork Angel, by Cassandra Clare, pg. 391.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 22: Mizpah<strong>

Once Celine admitted that she was pregnant, Stephen felt like a fool for missing the signs all along. Celine had been sleeping far more than usual, but Stephen figured it was because she was finally calm enough to sleep. She had gained weight, which he attributed to his mother's cooking. She was even getting sick in the morning, which Stephen managed to pretend wasn't happening. There were even the occasional crying jags he thought their current situation was to blame for.

"When?" Stephen asked. After Celine's announcement, Stephen left his shocked parents in the kitchen and brought Celine upstairs to take a pregnancy test, partially because he didn't believe her, and partially because he couldn't bear his parent's disappointment.

He was standing in the bathroom, looking down at not one but two home pregnancy tests which each showed bright blue plus signs. Celine was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, wiping her tears. She was dressed in a silk nightgown and panties. If she moved right, her nightgown stretched across her lower body, revealing a pregnancy she no doubt kept hidden.

"How did this happen?" Stephen whispered. "We said we weren't going to…"

"It had to have been the day Robert and Maryse came to the house, when I told you about the Uprising," Celine said. "Then." Stephen could remember the time as it being one of the only encounters they had together where he felt the right thing for his wife. He should have known this would be the result of that. He couldn't have gotten her pregnant any of the few times he was lazy about protection on their honeymoon. No, it had to have been that time.

"And how far along are you?" Stephen asked.

"At best guess? Eight weeks. Almost two months," Celine said.

"And how long have you known?" Stephen asked. Celine looked away. "Celine. How long?"

"Four weeks," Celine said. Stephen swore and punched the bathroom sink to keep from punching the mirror. "I've been reading a mundane baby book. The baby is about the size of a raspberry… and he or she has a heartbeat." Stephen rolled his eyes.

"And when are you due?" Stephen asked, his voice cracking, because even he could count nine months from the middle of February.

"November," Celine said. "The week of the Accords, to be exact." Stephen buried his face in his hands and willed himself not to cry, which was silly, because Celine saw him cry before. There was nothing different about it now.

"The week of the fucking Accords," Stephen said, looking up. "I'm supposed to lead the Uprising in taking down the Circle from the inside-"

"Stephen," Celine said, casting a wary look at the bathroom door.

"I'm to lead the Uprising and you, my wife, are going to be nine months pregnant! We won't be able to leave before the Accords, because you won't be able to travel while pregnant, and after… What if I die, Celine? What then?" Stephen asked. "How are you going to escape Idris when you are nine months pregnant, or, worse, with a newborn?"

"Let's take this one month at a time," Celine said. "It's going to be alright-"

"It will never be alright!" Stephen exclaimed. Celine was so calm, so rational, while he was anything but. There had to be a reason. "You planned this, didn't you? You've planned everything. You knew I didn't want this!"

"Do you think this is my fault?" Celine asked.

"I don't know," Stephen whispered. "I want to believe you're on the same page is me… but sometimes, I'm just not sure."

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><p>Stephen and Celine spent the next few days barely speaking. Dinner conversation revolved around anything but Celine's pregnancy which, after she finally acknowledged it, became obvious. She was small to begin with, so any weight gained went straight to her stomach. Stephen couldn't bear to look at her, to know that the child inside of her belonged to him. He wished he could doubt the baby's paternity but even that was obvious: for nearly three months Stephen and Celine shared close quarters, and he was the only man she was ever with.<p>

Finally, Valentine called a Circle meeting. Stephen wanted Celine to stay home, but then again, he attended his first Circle meeting alone, because Amatis was sick with her pregnancy. If Celine was absent from the meeting, that could send up red flags from Valentine, and the last thing Stephen wanted was added scrutiny from Valentine. Instead, Celine wore a tailored coat belonging to Imogen that covered her stomach completely. Stephen knew he could announce the pregnancy to the Circle, however, he liked keeping things from Valentine. Celine's pregnancy was a trump card Stephen could use whenever necessary.

Walking into Fairchild manor felt like coming full circle. Robert and Maryse were the party's centerpieces, along with little Alec, who had started to crawl. Maryse was dressed in dark pants with a coordinating shirt that clung tightly to her body, drawing attention to her small stomach. Valentine was holding Jonathan and making him laugh as Jocelyn stood by, talking with Maryse. Michael and his wife, Josie, were sitting in the corner with their son, who Stephen noted now took right after Michael with his light blond hair and blue eyes. Michael was talking quietly with Josie, who seemed subdued.

"Ah, Stephen, you're here," Valentine said. He gave Stephen a tight hug, and then reached for Celine, but she turned her head so that his lips only brushed her cheek. "I need to talk to you and Michael."

Michael looked up from Josie, then stood up and crossed the room. He seemed down about something, though Stephen wasn't sure what. The last time he had really spoken to Michael was the night before his wedding to Celine. Valentine walked from the room and Stephen followed with Michael. They started downstairs to the basement.

"Is everything alright?" Stephen mumbled. Michael shrugged. "You seem…"

"Josie had a miscarriage," Michael said. "It was early on, so it was hardly anything really. She was pregnant and then one morning there was a lot of blood and then she was no longer pregnant. Our midwife said that sometimes it happens. We can try again."

"I'm sorry to hear," Stephen said.

"It is awful, indeed," Valentine said. He led Stephen and Michael into the same room they met once before, when Valentine asked them to be parabatai for his purposes. "I wanted to talk to you both, because you're the only people who know I have the Mortal Cup, as well as what my plans are for the Cup. I need to ask… did either of you tell anyone about the Cup?"

"The Mortal Cup?" Michael asked. Stephen could barely recall the dark night he stole the Cup along with Michael. He could only remember riding home in a rainstorm, feeling like he did something he could never forgive himself for.

"Yes, the Mortal Cup," Valentine said. "I had it, and now… it's gone."

"Gone?" Stephen asked.

"Yes, gone," Valentine said. "The Mortal Cup is gone."

A small part of Stephen wanted to laugh for Valentine's misfortune. After all, he had demanded that they steal the Cup. Stephen didn't think about the Cup once it was out of his possession. It was Valentine who lost the Cup. Not Stephen or Michael.

"I carried it upstairs and gave it to you. That's the last I ever saw of it," Michael said, matter of fact. "We didn't tell anyone, and I doubt the Clave ever knew it was gone. As for Stephen or I taking it back, we don't know where you put it." Michael glanced at Stephen, who nodded quickly.

Valentine smiled. He went over to a desk, opened a drawer, pulled out a knife, and looked Stephen and Michael over carefully.

"I don't believe you," Valentine said. In a flash, he crossed the room, grabbed Michael by the hair, and turned him towards Stephen. He pressed the knife to Michael's throat. "Stephen, tell me where you put my Cup!"

Words nearly came from Stephen's mouth then, not the words that Valentine would want to hear, but the word Stephen wanted to say to him. The Mortal Cup didn't belong to Valentine. If anything, it belonged to Jonathan Shadowhunter, who received the Cup from the Angel. The Cup wasn't supposed to be used by a mad man to make more Shadowhunters who would kill all of the Downworlders. It was a gift Valentine had no right using for his own purposes.

If only Michael didn't have a knife to his throat, Stephen might have told Valentine how he really felt. If only Stephen wasn't scared for the lives of he, Celine, and their unborn child, he might have said the words he wanted to.

"I gave it to Michael!" Stephen exclaimed. Valentine pressed the blade into Michael's neck, drawing blood. Michael cried out and closed his eyes. Stephen stepped forward but Valentine held the knife tightly, his eyes dark and menacing.

"And why should I believe you?" Valentine asked. "I barely know you anymore. You moved out of my home. You refuse to conceive a child with your wife…" Michael sobbed and opened his eyes to give Stephen a look of desperation. Only two people could save Michael, and one of them had a knife to his throat.

"Just let him go!" Stephen exclaimed.

"No. It's been a little while since you saw someone suffer," Valentine said. "I'm going to stand here with the knife to Michael's throat until you tell me where you put the Cup. And every once in a while, I'll move the knife back and forth, like so…" Michael screamed and Valentine put a hand over his mouth.

"I don't know where the Cup went. Why would I lie to you?" Stephen asked. "I'm your fucking second in command!" He looked back to Michael to see tears streaming down his face. He was sagging in Valentine's arms, hysterical. Stephen's eyes filled with tears, remembering the time he had his runes stripped in the Silent City.

_"He's in pain, can't you see that?"_ Michael had cried. He'd grabbed Stephen's hand and held it. _"It's going to be okay. It won't hurt forever." _Then, later that night, he said,_ "I couldn't bear to see you hurt. Maybe you're my parabatai after all, if what hurts you hurts me." _

"Did you know there's a place on a man's back where you can put a blade through his spine and hit his heart? Did you know that, Michael?" Valentine asked. Michael moaned. "Shake your head no, Michael." Michael shook his head and the blade cut into his neck more.

"I got her pregnant!" Stephen exclaimed. "Celine and I. We're going to have a baby."

"That doesn't tell me where the Cup went," Valentine said. He scowled, then pulled the knife away from Michael's throat and shoved him into a heap at Stephen's feet. "Put yourself back to rights and come upstairs. Stephen has an announcement to make." Valentine tossed the knife onto his desk and started upstairs. "Oh, and if I don't find my Cup, heads are going to roll."

Valentine slammed the basement door shut as Michael's first choked sob came from his throat. He clutched at Stephen's legs, crying. Stephen reached down and ran a hand through Michael's hair, trying to comfort him, but knowing he could never tell Michael there was a way out. Not when he didn't know what side Michael was fighting for.

"I don't know where his fucking Cup went!" Michael exclaimed. "Does he think I would go behind his back and betray him? I wouldn't."

"Neither would I," Stephen whispered.

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><p>The Circle was still gathered in one room when Stephen and Michael finally came upstairs. Stephen had drawn healing runes on Michael's throat, then wiped the blood away as best as possible. There was still evidence that something had occurred, but that was for Valentine to explain, not Stephen or Michael.<p>

Celine met Stephen's eyes as he appeared in the doorway with Valentine. She clutching a drink as she sat between Jocelyn and Maryse on the couch, the exact same way she had been sitting the first time Stephen laid eyes on her, only now she was his wife, and the baby she carried in her stomach was his.

"Stephen has something to tell us," Valentine said. "Don't you, Stephen?"

"Celine and I are expecting a baby," Stephen said. He struggled to sound calm and confident while inside he was dying. He never wanted it to come to this, and yet it had.

"This is wonderful!" Maryse exclaimed. Robert merely looked surprised, having doubted Stephen all along. Michael didn't look at Stephen. He instead rested his head against his wife's shoulder, feeling no doubt betrayed. Jocelyn looked indifferent. She must have already known.

"When are you due?" Valentine asked, looking directly at Celine.

"October," Celine said. "We must have had a good honeymoon after all!" Everyone laughed.

* * *

><p>The month of May was difficult. Valentine took the Circle members hunting at a nearly relentless pace. After a while, Stephen lost count of how many creatures he killed for no reason. He stopped caring, in fact, and found himself killing with no remorse what so ever. It wasn't until later as he washed the dried blood from his skin that he realized once more how truly terrible he was.<p>

Valentine had changed perspective over the winter. Instead of wanting to go after vampires and werewolves, he focused his efforts on warlocks. The first time Stephen ran his sword through a helpless warlock girl, he thought of Aunt Tessa and Magnus and prayed they were far away from Idris.

Celine spent the month being fed nearly constantly by Imogen. Stephen could barely eat, and yet Celine blossomed with her pregnancy. By her fourth month she couldn't wear any of her old clothes and instead began lying around in Stephen's clothing. It reminded him of Amatis, yet he didn't say anything, because the few times Amatis did come up, Stephen and Celine fought awful screaming matches for different reasons. Celine felt guilty for breaking Stephen and Amatis up. Stephen hated Celine for stepping between he and Amatis, and while he tried to forget about Amatis, he never could.

On the nights Stephen didn't come home covered in blood, but rather merely tired from a Circle meeting he hadn't taken Celine to, she would accuse him of infidelity, saying that if he cheated once, he was bound to again. Stephen didn't want to scream at his wife, but the pressure of his life made him prone to snapping… often. By the first week of June, Stephen was sleeping on the couch in he and Celine's room while she stayed in the bed. He was back to barely sleeping. His parents never questioned him, but Stephen felt his father's scorn all the same.

In the middle of June, around what would have been Stephen and Amatis's first anniversary, Stephen was upstairs, keeping distance from his parents like usual. He and Celine had quarreled earlier in the day over something regarding the baby, Stephen was sure of it. He could no longer bear the thought of being intimate with her for various reasons, one of which was the fact that he hadn't wanted to have a baby with her, and yet, she was pregnant. The other reason was that Celine was only 17 weeks along and Amatis had been only 20 weeks when she lost Isaiah. Anything could happen, which was why Stephen didn't bother to entertain the thought of intimacy, despite Celine wanting him now more than ever.

The night before she had actually given him oral sex just before they were to go to sleep. The thought of his wife being pregnant with his child and doing such a thing repulsed Stephen so much, he pushed her away and went downstairs. He got drunk in the sitting room and woke up the next morning to Marcus's disapproving frown.

What bridges that had been mended between Stephen and Marcus were in shambles once more. Stephen felt like a ship left to drift in hostile waters along while his parents remained the land he could not reach, and might never, again.

Stephen was writing some of these thoughts in his journal when there was a knock at the door. Imogen looked in to see Celine nestled between pillows on the bed as Stephen sat at the desk.

"There's someone here from your Circle," Imogen said. She always said "your Circle" like it was Stephen's Circle to lead. Then again, the less she knew, the better. "That boy who was in your wedding."

"Michael," Stephen said. He dropped his journal onto the desk and hurried out of the room. He went downstairs to find Michael standing in the front foyer, dressed in dark pants and knee high riding boots, with a collared shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest. His cheeks were bright red from the heat of outside. Stephen grabbed him around the waist and pulled him close. Michael moaned and rubbed his cheek against Stephen's, clutching at him as if he might fall over.

"I need to talk to you," Michael whispered, his lips close to Stephen's ear.

"I have a place we can go," Stephen said. He put on his boots and walked outside to find Michael's horse waiting beside the barn. Stephen saddled his mother's horse and they rode away from the manor.

They ended up beside a small lake in the middle of the woods. It was the same place Stephen brought Amatis to be alone. It was here that they conceived their only child. Michael didn't remark on the setting, he only dismounted from his horse, kicked off his boots, and went to sit beside the lake. Stephen sat next to him, and for a long while, the only sound between them was the croak of bullfrogs and the buzz of dragon fly wings.

"Do you love me?" Michael asked.

"Love?" Stephen asked, caught off guard. He was beyond figuring out his feelings for Michael.

"Unconditionally, you know? Does what we have transcend the Circle?" Michael said. "If I told you something, would you keep it a secret? Even if it was something Valentine would want to know? Would you keep the secret for me?"

"Of course," Stephen said. "What's this about? It doesn't have anything to do with the Accords, right?" Michael sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Does it have something to do with the Mortal Cup? Or….?"

"I'm thinking about leaving the Circle," Michael said. "In the beginning, it was different. There was a clear purpose. We were going to reform the Laws. Now… Valentine wants to slaughter innocent Downworlders. I try to see the reasoning, but… I can't see it anymore. It's like everything is spinning out of control and it will never stop and… I've got a family, Stephen! I have to think about Josie and Jonathan-Michael."

"When are you leaving?" Stephen asked.

"I don't know. More than likely, during the Accords. I don't want to sneak away, like a coward, but I'm afraid…" Michael said. "It's clear Valentine will do away with whoever gets in his way. Between you and I, I think Luke's death was suspicious. There's no way Luke just so happened to die on the one night Valentine took him hunting."

"He's alive," Stephen said. "Luke. He's alive."

"Angel," Michael mumbled.

"Why don't you leave now?" Stephen asked. "Just take your family and leave. I've got connections all over the world. Go to Quebec. Valentine will never find you there." Michael smiled ruefully. He gazed out over the lake and drummed his fingers on the ground. A blush crept into his cheeks. "Michael."

"I'm staying for you," Michael said. "I don't want to leave you behind. I thought you could come with me. We could raise our families together… in Quebec."

"I have to stay until the Accords," Stephen said. "If you get a chance, leave. Run. Don't stay for me." Michael smiled and rolled his eyes. "I'm serious!"

"I will stay for you," Michael said, sobering. "I just wanted to tell you I was thinking about leaving. I wanted to…" He laid his hand on top of Stephen's, the way he had the night they became parabatai. "I wanted to say goodbye, in case I didn't get a chance to later."

"Don't say good bye. It's never good bye," Stephen said. He felt emotional, suddenly. This was a thought that had been playing in his mind for weeks now, that any night could be his last on earth. He avoided saying goodbye to Celine and his parents for that reason, because he honestly couldn't handle the thought of leaving them behind.

"Then Mizpah," Michael said. "The Lord watch between me and thee when we are absent from one another."

"Until we meet again," Stephen said, his voice breaking as his eyes filled with tears. Michael looked into Stephen's eyes and smiled.

"Until we meet again," Michael said.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please review. The next chapter will be the second to last, so there is no teaser.<strong>


	23. Chapter 23: The Truth

**Author's Note: Enjoy this chapter and please review!**

**Major Author's Note: Character death.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 23: The Truth<strong>

It was late afternoon by the time Stephen returned to Herondale Manor. He and Michael had spent the afternoon lying beneath an apple tree close to the lake. Every time they thought about leaving, one or the other decided to stay. When they finally departed from one another's company, it was a long, difficult goodbye, until each mounted their horses and rode off in opposite directions. Stephen knew he would see Michael again. He just had to.

When Stephen walked into the manor house, he could smell dinner. He called a greeting to his parents, and then walked upstairs to his room. As he approached the door, he heard crying, so he pushed the door open to find Celine sitting on the bed, her hand over her mouth as she sobbed. Across her lap laid Stephen's journal. Celine looked up, and then threw the journal at Stephen, narrowly missing him.

"What the hell?" Stephen asked, but his heart wasn't in it. He instead leaned over and picked the journal. "Celine?"

"You never did love me, did you?" Celine asked. "You only said you did! You still love her and you're cheating on me with her!" Stephen closed his eyes and leaned against the bedroom door, all of the fight gone from his body. After swearing Mizpah to Michael, he couldn't bear much more emotion.

"I would never cheat on you," Stephen said.

"But you love her. Still. After everything! After…" Celine gestured to her stomach. "I'm pregnant with your son and you still won't love me!"

"My son?" Stephen asked. "How do you know?" He didn't want to find out if Celine was having a boy or a girl, simply because he didn't want to think about having a son or daughter. As long as Celine remained pregnant, Stephen remained distant from the idea of having a child. Knowing he was having a son made the whole experience feel less like a dream and more like a nightmare. Not a son. Anything but a son.

"When Jocelyn and I went to Alicante last week, we went to the Silent City. She's pregnant with a girl, you know? And I'm pregnant with your son," Celine said. "I thought we could name him William. William Marcus. Or…" Stephen shook his head and buried his face in his hands. "You don't care, do you? You never wanted a child with me! You don't even care about your son! If you cared about this baby, you would have mentioned him more in your journal!" Stephen looked at Celine, wanting to say that he felt differently, only… he didn't, because she was right. "You only want Amatis. And don't you dare deny it. It's written in your journal in your hand writing. "Dear Amatis," you wrote. "I…"

"Shut up," Stephen said. Celine stopped talking. "Do you want to know the truth? You keep asking for it, and I'm about ready to give you it."

"I already know it," Celine said.

"I never loved you, not the way I loved her. You were merely someone to be with when I needed someone. If I could do it all over again, I would never join the Circle, and I sure as hell would never be with you," Stephen said. He tossed the journal onto the bed beside Celine. "I meant every word I ever wrote. Every word. You can give me the world. You can give me a son. But you'll never give me back everything I ever lost."

Celine gasped as her eyes filled with fresh tears. Stephen turned and walked from the room.

* * *

><p>The rest of the summer continued tensely. Valentine began showing up at Herondale Manor, bringing baby gifts, maternity clothes from Jocelyn, and a sweet, syrupy liquid for Celine to drink for strength. Stephen was initially nervous about the drink, until Celine had a few doses of it. Then her skin seemed to glow from the inside out. She was rarely, if ever, fatigued.<p>

Whenever Valentine came to visit, Marcus avoided him. Stephen tried to see eye to eye with his father, and tried to stay close with his parents, but it was difficult when they both so clearly disapproved of the Circle. Their relationship remained fractured, even as Stephen and Celine prepared to welcome a baby. Every once in a while, Stephen would look up from a meal and find his mother or father looking at him with a heartbroken expression on their faces, never needing to say that they had expected so much more from Stephen.

The Circle continued their raiding. By August, there were hardly any vampires left in Idris. Those who did live there were either killed by the Circle or left to save themselves. There was one strong hold of vampires left near the western border of Idris, closer to the Circle Manor houses. Valentine had plans to wipe those vampires out closer to the Accords with a raid that promised to be large.

Meanwhile, plans for the Accords began in Alicante, and Marcus and Imogen began traveling there to meet with Council members. Every time Marcus and Imogen brought up the Accords at dinner Stephen lost his appetite. He longed for a time where he didn't have to fear for the lives of his parents, his friends, and yes, even Celine.

September brought with it an early fall. By the middle of the month Stephen was spending the nights with his arms around Celine, who was now uncomfortably seven months pregnant. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Stephen would wake up to a tiny foot nudging his arm as the baby made his presence known. Stephen wanted to resent the baby for coming in the middle of the worst time in his life, and yet, he wanted to meet this baby, his son. It seemed like the baby was the one good thing left in the world.

Some mornings Stephen woke up and imagined sending Michael a letter before they packed up their families and left Idris from somewhere far away, where no one had ever heard of The Circle. Other mornings he woke up and knew that he helped started this; he had to stay to end it. The worst part was not knowing what was going to happen. Stephen knew Jocelyn and Celine were part of the Uprising, as was Luke, and Michael could go either way, but Valentine had many more followers all focused on the Accords. It was going to be a battle, one way or another, and Stephen was unable to predict the outcome.

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><p>The first week of October, nearly a year after he proposed to Celine, Stephen prepared to go raid the vampire stronghold. It was late into the evening, past dinner time. Celine lay on the bed, now eight months pregnant. After their argument in the spring, their relationship had been forever changed. In some ways it was better: Stephen didn't have to hide his feelings anymore, and Celine understood the nights he could not sleep after waking from a nightmare about losing Amatis. They were almost happy together, as happy as they could be, anyway.<p>

"Can I talk to you?" Stephen asked. He had just finished his runes and buttoned his shirt and was now preparing his weapons for the evening. He sat down on the edge of the bed and Celine came over to sit beside him. Since his conversation with Michael back in the spring, something had remained in the back of Stephen's mind. It was an innate sense of mortality; that he might not always live to see the sun rise on another day. "I just wanted to let you know… if something should ever happened to me, go to Michael. He's been on the fence with the Circle since the spring. He wants to leave, and if he does leave, I want you to go with him. He'll take care of you and… the baby."

"Do you think something is going to happen?" Celine asked. She took Stephen's hand and rested it on her stomach. The baby was moving slowly, only half heartedly kicking. He was always more active in the middle of the night.

Stephen didn't want to tell Celine that ever since that night in the cellar with Michael and Valentine, he had felt marked for death. He couldn't bear to worry his wife. Not when she was so nervous as it was.

"Just go to him. He loves me and he'll take care of you and the baby as if you were his own," Stephen said.

"I refuse to discuss any of this," Celine said. "I would rather die than live without you. I still love you. Even if you don't love me, I still love you."

Stephen stood up and went over to his weapons trunk. When the conversation moved to this topic, it was always best to focus on battle and weaponry. The truth was, Stephen wasn't sure of any of his feelings anymore. He imagined that should he survive the Accords, he and Celine would go start over somewhere. Maybe then, he could feel the right away for her.

"I loved you," Stephen said. "You were and are what I needed, when I needed it. I just thought we deserved different things. You deserved Luke. Amatis deserved someone who loved her faithfully, who didn't walk away when things got hard. I… I've done terrible things. I don't know what I deserve."

"You deserve to be loved," Celine said. She climbed off the bed and came over to Stephen.

"I love you," he said. "I know sometimes I didn't, but right now, I do."

"Right now is the only thing that matters," Celine said. She ran her fingers down his cheek and looked into his eyes. "Be safe tonight. Come home." Stephen only nodded.

"Don't wait up," he said. He kissed her lips and stepped away just as there was a knock at the door. Marcus stood there, looking Stephen and Celine over with a mournful look in his eye. "Is something the matter?"

"We need to talk," Marcus said.

"Be right there," Stephen said. He turned back to Celine. "Get some sleep. I'll wake you up when I get back so you know I'm home." Celine nodded and wiped some tears from her eyes. Stephen gave her a rueful smile and left the room.

"Say nothing. Only listen," Marcus said. "The Mortal Cup has gone missing, Valentine Morgenstern plans to raise an army and kill all of the Downworlders at the Accords, and there is a group of people within the Circle known as the Uprising who plan to take the Circle down from the inside."

"How do you know?" Stephen asked.

"Celine," Marcus replied. Stephen wanted to roll his eyes. Just when he thought his wife had stopped being impressive, she did something else amazing. "Why didn't you tell me any of this?"

"I don't know," Stephen said. "It was such a good idea in the beginning. Now… I've lost so much, father, and I don't think any of the loss was worth being in the Circle." Stephen remembered Amatis asking that question in the Silent City: Would any of this be worth it, in the end?

"You made a mistake," Marcus said. He didn't have to say how big of a mistake Stephen made. After all, Stephen lived through his mistakes. "Everything is going to be alright. The Clave knows and they have a plan of their own. We'll stop Valentine, Stephen. One way or another, we'll stop him. You just stay safe. You've got a son on the way, who is going to need a father."

"I have Michael. He has my back," Stephen said. He was nearly at the front foyer. "Tell Mum I love her, okay?" Imogen could never bear watching Stephen leave for a hunt. She had been the same with Marcus, so Stephen didn't mind. It was better this way.

"I'll tell her," Marcus said. He patted Stephen on the shoulder as Stephen opened the front door. "I love you, son. I know we had our differences, but… I love you."

"Thank you, father," Stephen said.

"You come home tonight," Marcus said. "Do you hear me?" Stephen remembered leaving the London Institute when he was fifteen and hearing Marcus say those same words. It was his way of saying good bye without having to say goodbye.

"I'll be back before sunrise," Stephen said. He gave his father one last smile and walked out the door.

* * *

><p>Stephen met up with Michael for a nearly silent ride to the appointed meeting area close to a lake, less than a mile from the manor house where a large gathering of vampires lived. As Stephen and Michael crested a hill, the full weight of the night came crashing down upon them. There were close to thirty Shadowhunters assembled, all dressed in gear and armed with weapons. It was the largest gathering of Circle members Stephen had seen, for this purpose. Valentine was in the middle of them, mounted on a large horse and looking imposing in his gear. Hodge was beside him, quietly talking as Valentine nodded.<p>

"You're late," Valentine said.

"I'm sorry," Stephen said. Valentine looked him over, a scowl on his face. It was the same way Marcus used to look at Stephen whenever his son disappointed him. "What's the plan?"

"Well, it's a raid, so we'll storm the house, kill everyone inside, and leave no survivors," Valentine said. "You'll ride with me, Stephen." Valentine started down the hill and Stephen sent his horse down after him as everyone fell into line. "You've come along way, you know."

"Yeah, there are a lot of hills with the way I had to come," Stephen said.

"No, I mean within the Circle. You've really made something of yourself," Valentine said. He patted Stephen on the knee. "You've done everything I ever asked of you. You have been a faithful, loyal servant. Just like Lucian was."

"I aim to please," Stephen said.

"And you're having son. He's due to arrive any day now, isn't he?" Valentine asked.

"Yes, any day now," Stephen said. He attempted to smile convincingly.

"You've done good work," Valentine said. "I'm proud to have you as my second in command. You must know that, Stephen. I'm proud of you."

"I'm just happy to be your second in command," Stephen said. "We are going to do great things together, right, Valentine?"

"We most certainly are," Valentine said.

Not long after, they arrived on a hill overlooking a large manor house which stood in the darkness. The moon was almost full as it rose over the horizon, cast in an orange glow.

"Half of us will go upstairs, the other half will stay on the main floor. Kill them all, do you hear me? Kill them all. Last two out will torch the house," Valentine said. "Be safe. Be relentless. These creatures are demons and they don't deserve to live. They deserve to die." Stephen shivered and met Michael's eyes. Who was Valentine, to determine who lived and who died?

They approached the manor on foot. Valentine was in first, followed by Stephen and Hodge. Stephen went to a side room and found two vampire girls reading in some candle light. He shoved a dagger through the neck of one, and then stabbed the other in the chest with a seraph blade. He moved onto another room where Michael was already battling three vampires. These vampires were older, and they put up more of a fight. Stephen had his face sliced open by one of their finger nails. Blood dripped into his eyes and whipped the vampires into more of a frenzy, and then Stephen wasn't just battling, but fighting for his life, the way he had on the night of his Initiation.

When they left that room, there was a cry from upstairs, so Stephen and Michael ran up the steps to find more of the vampires on the second floor. There was such an overwhelming amount; every time they killed a few, more appeared, all bearing their teeth and nails and using lightning quick movements to leap in front of and behind Stephens and Michael. Stephen took a blade to the back of his shoulder and he fell to the floor, hurt, but not dead.

"Take my stele!" Michael cried. He offered his stele and Stephen went to grab it, only to have it knocked out of his hand by another vampire. Stephen lifted a blade and shoved it through the vampire's chest, killing it instantly.

"I'm fine," Stephen said. Michael killed the last vampire and turned to Stephen, his eyes looking scared and near tears. He grabbed Stephen by the waist and pulled him close, so their faces were inches apart.

"Let's just go," he whispered. "Please, Stephen. Let's just leave."

"Okay," Stephen said. He touched Michael's cheek and looked into Michael's huge blue eyes. "Okay, we'll go." Michael dropped his blade to the floor and started for the door.

"Stephen!" Hodge cried. "Stephen, help me!" Michael grabbed Stephen by the hand and shook his head.

"Go downstairs. I'll be right there," Stephen said. He pulled away from Michael and walked into the hallway to find a breathless Hodge. Together, they walked down a long, dark hallway as vampires screamed all around. The house was in utter pandemonium as Shadowhunters battled vampires, but the upstairs was suddenly quiet. Stephen knew this had to be a trap, and yet, he knew if he turned back, it would be obvious that he was against Valentine. His only hope was to fight Valentine to the death. It could all end tonight.

Hodge led Stephen to a room and pushed him inside, slamming the door closed behind him. Despite the battle going on, Valentine sat on a window seat beside a large window. There was a mirror close to him that reflected the moon, which was now high in the sky.

"Stephen, you came to me," Valentine said, standing up.

"Are you hurt?" Stephen asked.

"Somewhat," Valentine said. "It has become clear to me that you are not the man I thought you were. You've shown me one face and kept another hidden."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Stephen said. Valentine smiled.

"You and I both know what I'm talking about," Valentine said. "I'm talking about how you never were on board with the Circle. Even at your Initiation, I knew, you weren't right for my purposes, yet I kept you on, because you were so eager to please, and you did everything I asked. But the truth of the matter is, every time I questioned your loyalty, you lied to my face. You only wanted to be known for something, as my second in command. You never suffered for the Circle…"

"I lost my wife. I lost a son. I have done horrible things for your Circle," Stephen said. "You cannot question my loyalty-"

"Yes, I can," Valentine said. "You've betrayed me. You let me believe I could count on you, but you are just like Lucian. You'll turn your back on me when things don't go your way. Tell me you won't. Look me in the eyes and tell me you won't."

Stephen opened his mouth, prepared to give Valentine what he wanted, and stopped, because he could no longer give Valentine what he wanted. Giving Valentine what he wanted never got Stephen anything in return, it only caused him to lose everything that was precious to him. Stephen thought he could do great things with the Circle, but nothing he ever did was good or great.

"No," Stephen said. Valentine took a step back, shocked that someone was telling him no.

"Then you have betrayed me," Valentine said. "You are nothing to me now. You're nothing to your wife, your family, anyone. We could have been something great, you and I."

"You're wrong," Stephen said. "You are wrong." Valentine smirked.

"So what do you think is going to happen next? You think you'll walk out of this manor house and go live happily ever after with your precious Michael?" Valentine asked. "You've killed people. You've killed things. You've burned bridges. Nothing can ever go back to the way it was before. You should kill yourself."

"Why?" Stephen asked.

"You should let people believe you died a hero's death. I'll tell them all how you died killing vampires. They'll believe me." Valentine twisted his fingers into Stephen's hair and looked into his eyes. "Give your son a reason not to hate you when he gets old enough to find out what sort of man you were. You can end it all tonight." Valentine took a dagger off his belt and offered it to Stephen. Stephen took the dagger and looked down at it.

"That was my plan," Stephen said. He raised the dagger and swung it towards Valentine's neck.

There was a flash of silver in the moonlight as Valentine lifted his left hand to reveal a long, silver blade. Stephen cried out as the blade slammed into his chest, ripped through skin, muscle, and bone, and pierced his heart.

"I always doubted you. Always," Valentine said. He pulled the blade out, ripping a hole in Stephen's chest. Blood sprayed out as the knife exited the wound. Stephen felt heat on his chest as he fell to the floor. His hand was suddenly covered in hot blood that wouldn't stop, no matter how hard he pressed down on the wound. His lungs became heavy and painful. Stephen took one breath, then another. He coughed as blood welled into his throat and burst from his mouth and nose. He looked down, once, to see his shirt stained black with blood. "You're nothing to me, Stephen. You never were anything; you were just a pawn in my game of chess."

"Fuck you," Stephen managed. Valentine grabbed a chair and threw it through the window. Glass shattered everywhere, and in the aftermath, Valentine ran to the door and pulled it open.

"Michael!" he screamed. "Michael, come quick!" There was pounding footsteps in the hallway. Stephen saw Valentine once more as he slipped out of the room. Michael appeared at the door, gave a low cry, and fell to his knees beside Stephen.

"We can fix this," Michael said. Stephen closed his eyes. There was no fixing this, not now, not ever.

"Hold me," Stephen whispered. Michael moaned, and then pulled Stephen into his lap. He wrapped his arms tightly around Stephen's shoulders and rested his cheek against Stephen's forehead. Michael laced his fingers into Stephen's fingers, which lay over his heart. "Celine."

"What?" Michael asked.

"Celine," Stephen said again. "Take care of her. She'll need you. Take her and run, Michael. Run." Stephen's eyes flickered open and closed as he remembered Jocelyn telling him to run. She told him that no one should have to die for what only Valentine believed was right.

"You're going to be fine," Michael said. "Don't worry about her. You'll be just fine."

"Talk to Jocelyn. She'll tell you everything you need to know," Stephen said. His lungs were starting to hurt worse, as if there was a pressure inside of him waiting to burst, but he felt good in Michael's arms.

"Jocelyn? Why?" Michael asked. Stephen closed his eyes and groaned, knowing he didn't have much time left to tell Michael everything he had to know.

"Celine," Stephen whispered. He looked up into Michael's eyes once last time.

"Okay, yes, Celine," Michael said. "Stephen! Stay with me!" Michael's eyes filled with tears. One dripped onto Stephen's face, and Stephen couldn't help but think that this was how love was supposed to be. It was unconditional devotion, until the very end. Michael loved Stephen, and Celine loved Stephen as well.

"Celine," Stephen whispered, and died with his wife's name on his lips.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Epilogue to follow. Please review. Come on. Don't just pass this chapter by without at least telling me if you loved or hated the story. Please? <strong>


	24. Chapter 24: Epilogue

**Author's Note/Closing Remarks: Thanks to everyone who started reading this story at Chapter 1 and is still reading it now. I always say that I would write if there was no one to read it, but to know that I have readers makes the whole experience so much more fun. I appreciate every visitor and hit I have ever gotten, so thank you all. Please sign up for an author alert if you haven't already, because I can't tell you what I write next, only that I should have another story in the works before Christmas. AS ALWAYS: Thanks for reading, enjoy this chapter, and please review!**

**Epilogue**

Heaven was everything Stephen ever expected of it, and more. Everything was white, the sort of bright white that hurt your eyes. The Angel was there, sitting on his throne with the archangels Michael and Gabriel on either side of him. Stephen was standing near them, not in any pain. It was true what the books said about death: how man left his earthly body behind and took his soul to heaven to live there for all of eternity. The stories were true after all.

Stephen was just getting used to the fact that there was life after death when Celine walked through a doorway, dressed in white. He didn't ask her why she was there, or even what happened on Earth, because none of that mattered anymore. Celine didn't speak; she just took Stephen's hand and kissed his lips. So many times he kissed her because he had to, not because he wanted to. This time, he kissed her because they were finally in the same place at the same time. Then, hand in hand, they walked into Heaven.

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><p>To Amatis's amazement, it was Marcus who came to deliver the news of Stephen and Celine's deaths. When he appeared on her doorstep, she didn't scream and cry the way she had when Valentine delivered the news of Luke's death. In the back of her mind, Amatis always knew that Stephen's days were numbered, and it seemed as though Marcus felt the same.<p>

The funeral was held the following morning, first down in the Silent City, where Stephen's body was burned, then up in the necropolis, where his ashes were interred in the Herondale mausoleum along with the body of his still eight months pregnant wife. Marcus had told Amatis that Celine had killed herself upon hearing the news of Stephen's death, though Amatis didn't believe that, the same way she didn't believe Stephen died at the hands of a vampire the way Valentine reported. Celine wouldn't have killed herself, not while she was pregnant with Stephen's son. All the same, Stephen and Celine and their child were dead, the same way Luke and Isaiah were. So many people had died for Valentine, and there were many more deaths to come.

The funeral was small- only Marcus and Imogen attended, along with Amatis. Imogen had requested Amatis's presence at the funeral, and told her that she was the only person who truly loved Stephen the right way.

Amatis attended the funeral in search of closure. Even knowing that Stephen was gone and watching his body burn still didn't make it seem real. After he had left her, Amatis waited months for him to return, never believing all of the things he said in the Silent City the morning of their divorce. She felt like she and Stephen had only misplaced one another, and sooner or later, Amatis would walk around a corner to find him leaning against the wall, looking less like a man and more like an over grown boy, right where she left him. He couldn't really be gone.

It was early afternoon, following the funeral when Amatis finally returned to the tiny canal house she had shared with Stephen. Imogen had given Amatis a silver box decorated with birds in flight, along with the name "Herondale." Amatis sat at the kitchen table and opened the box to find Stephen's hunting dagger, adorned with his initials, several love letters from their Academy days, and a Herondale family tree going all the way back to one William Francis Herondale Jr.

There was also a journal. When Amatis opened it, she found all of the pages covered with Stephen's writing. Every entry had a date and every entry was addressed to her. Amatis turned to the first page and her eyes filled with tears as she began to read.

17th of February  
><em>Dear Amatis,<em>  
><em>I was wrong.<em>

Amatis looked out of the kitchen window into the streets of Alicante. She knew that someday, someone might come looking for Stephen's memory, and it would be her duty to tell them what sort of man he was. Stephen had been far from perfect, but he did his best, and in the end, that was all that mattered.

**The End**


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